


Finding Harmony

by nunwithgun



Series: An Opera for Two [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Characters will be tagged as they are added, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Friends with Benefits Catch Feelings, Most BE students show up with time, Post-Black Eagles Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Game, Post-Time Skip, Rating May Change, except it's Edelgard with political approval about her love life, that meme of the guy throwing papers up in the air and going "F-- this!", then picking up the papers and going "Nevermind I still need these"
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2020-10-21 07:44:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20689964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nunwithgun/pseuds/nunwithgun
Summary: For all the affection between them, their relationship still hovered around a hazy line of commitment. Edelgard had expressed in no uncertain terms that she was in love, but Dorothea still found herself sorting through her own emotions on the matter. She could catch fleeting feelings, like the one that had just surfaced, but never enough to commit to those three words she seemed to fear. Dorothea still couldn’t help herself from expressing those feelings out loud, if only to make sure she finally wasn’t dreaming that she had someone to say them to and truly mean it. She could only hope and pray that Edelgard would not see them as insincere.





	1. Chapter I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Love is a rebellious bird  
That none can tame,  
And it is well in vain that one calls it,  
If it suits it to refuse."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! This is my extension of the oneshot, A Leading Lady's Love (Part 1 of this series). Got inspired, plotted things out a bit, and now I'm attached to the idea of a multi chapter fic. If you want to read this, I'd highly recommend looking at the oneshot first! Hope this will be a fun ride!

Dorothea was both pleasantly surprised and perplexed at the fact that she found herself standing outside of the Emperor of Fodlan's private study. It seemed as if it had been a lifetime ago that she had even so much as set foot in Enbarr's palace, much less in the more private areas of the stronghold. 

Letters to Edelgard had been frequent, and letters from Edelgard scarce to none. The Emperor’s visits to the opera had been put aside more and more as they days wore on, and after a third day straight without so much as a footman sent to reply Dorothea decided she would be put aside no longer.

Dorothea did not pretend to be a war hero, nor did she expect special treatment for sharing the Emperor’s bed. In fact, she had fully expected to have to throw a fit at the gates of the palace to enter. Instead, she had been recognized on sight by a nervous looking boy of a guard and allowed to roam about unchecked. She tried not to think too hard on whether it was because he was new to the job or because he had explicit orders to let Dorothea Arnault enter at will.

She honestly wasn’t sure which she’d rather have it be.

Dorothea had found the grand study with limited directions from the royal servants, thank the Goddess. She knew Hubert, Byleth, and a handful of other old friends were roaming about for their latest strategy meeting on their covert operations. Dorothea treasured her friends deeply, but they were far from the forefront of her mind in that moment. After not seeing many of them for a few months, she very much didn’t feel like trying to explain her odd relationship with the Emperor to any of them.

Her knocks at the door were left unanswered. Dorothea gave a careful twist of the handle and peered through the crack to see dim candlelight flickering about the room. When she opened the door in full, she found Edelgard seated at a grand oaken desk, back to Dorothea as she seemed to scribble notes on a thick stack of papers.

A weary sigh cut through the silence. "Hubert, I thought I told you that I don't want hear another word about the Interior's tax reform for at least a week."

Dorothea grinned, curling her fingers into claws and creeping her way towards the chair as if she were a certain shadowy presence. "But your majesty, there’s so much more boring drivel to be done!" She was honestly surprised at the eerie similarity her voice had to the Count's own when it was dropped several octaves. Even the Emperor before her seemed to pause in confusion.

When Edelgard turned in her chair to look at her, Dorothea felt her heart sink in her chest. She was exhausted. Her eyes were sunken and hollow, making her look many, many years past her age. Her hair was uncharacteristically disheveled, only barely held in place by the binds of her crown and ready to burst free at any moment. The last time she had looked so unkempt was the month after Byleth disappeared, when she had spent night after night combing the rubble of Garreg Mach searching for their professor.

It hurt Dorothea to see her that way in the past, and killed Dorothea to see her that way in the present.

"Dorothea," Edelgard began, her brow furrowing, "I wasn't expecting you."

The songstress glanced down at the utter mess of papers on her desk. She ran her fingers across them, catching glances of everything from drafts of policy to clandestine reports. A neat little pile of letters sat at one corner, and she recognized her own rose-shaped seal on them, still unopened. "Maybe you would, if you'd read any of my notes," she chided, using one of the envelopes to tap her on the nose.

Edelgard flinched at the action, and Dorothea could’ve sworn she saw guilt pass across the ruler’s gaze. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, head sinking into her hands, “I’ve not been well lately.”

"I can see that," Dorothea said, pressing a hand across the open back of her dress in support.

Edelgard sighed, her shoulders shuddering with tension underneath Dorothea’s fingertips. "My uncle has been too quiet. Hubert can't even track his movements anymore and it's making me into a nervous wreck,” she explained.

"Shouldn't you take it as a blessing that he's nowhere to be found? Perhaps he's finally given up?" Dorothea offered.

Edelgard's bark of a laugh was so bitter that it almost made the songstress flinch away. "If only. His absence just means that we have that much more to worry about. If we can’t find him, we can’t calculate his next move and we put people in danger and we—" The Emperor’s words degraded to a growl of frustration as she spoke. Her closed fist came down heavy on the desk.

Dorothea said nothing at first. She knew little about Lord Arundel, and little about his connections with the silent war that Edelgard had been embroiled in for the past year. In fact, she still couldn’t quite comprehend what made him such a dangerous person after his unconditional support throughout the campaign against Faerghus, or why Edelgard seemed to pursue him so.

But then again, she often got the feeling that she really knew little about Edelgard herself.

“Let me steal you away for a while,” Dorothea offered, gently undoing the mess of strings that held the Emperor’s signature horned crown and buns in place. She set the headpiece down on the desk as a long silence stretched out between them.

A moment or two passed. The conflict in Edelgard's weary eyes became painfully apparent as Dorothea began to run her fingers through her pale locks. The Emperor was especially fond of the touch, looking for a moment as if she were going to reach out and pull Dorothea closer. The frustrated sigh that followed proved that even affection could not sway her from her duty. “I really shouldn’t,” she finally protested, turning back to the mountain of papers.

Dorothea caught her shoulder, forcing the Emperor to meet her eyes. “Edie, you’re not getting anywhere and it’s the dead of night. How long have you been working on this letter right here?” By the way Edelgard frowned when looking down at the messy script, Dorothea had a feeling her point had been made. “I’ve got something to show you at the opera house. It’s worth your time, I swear it.”

Edelgard chewed on her lower lip for a moment, a nervous habit Dorothea had never told her that she noticed. Again, the conflict over simply taking the night off seemed to be a war within her eyes. She gave a brisk nod of decision. “Very well. I’ll meet you down at the stables. But we must make sure that—“

“Thank you, Edie!” With a quick kiss to her Emperor’s brow, Dorothea fled the room before she could change her mind.

* * *

Disguise was crucial for Dorothea following her many successes on the stage and the battlefield alike. If somebody failed to recognize her as the Mystical Songstress, they were sure to know her as the Rose of War. 

But as much as Dorothea adored the attention in front of an adoring crowd, she hated being recognized on the streets of Enbarr.

The only thing Dorothea had packed for her short trip to the palace was an old and worn hat. She retrieved the item from her horse’s saddlebag after securing his tack, beating the dust off of it across her knee before twisting and tying her brunette locks to hide them beneath the headpiece. There was no need to let anyone know that Dorothea Arnault was roaming the capital so late at night. 

The streets were already abuzz with rumors about her love life. It was amazing how the hushed whispers of scandal had spread far and wide so quickly. Local gossip claimed that not only was she sleeping with the Emperor, but she apparently had developed less than modest relations with half of her trusted advisers. She couldn’t help but wonder what Linhardt would say when informed that he was apparently in a torrid love affair with Mittelfrank’s _prima donna_. His husband would surely be in for a shock.

Such was the fate of the leading lady, she supposed. She seemed to remember Manuela also complaining of such thing a long, long time ago (and lamenting over the fact that none of the rumors rung true).

"Is that the same hat from our academy days?" Edelgard seemed to almost materialize at her side. She had changed her clothes in what seemed like seconds, now donning a loose, ruffled shirt and riding breeches that had seen better days. A long black cloak billowed around her, likely for the sake of her own secrecy. 

Green eyes drifted up and down the Emperor’s form in appreciation. Seeing her in casual wear was a sharp contrast from her usual regal attire. The songstress still found her strikingly beautiful.

Dorothea grinned back, running her fingers across the torn felt of her cap. “It’s certainly possible. I grabbed the first thing I could find from my dresser,” she admitted, throwing the reins over her steed’s neck.

"You were really in that much of a hurry?"

Dorothea shrugged. “I wanted to see you,” she said before mounting her horse with ease and extending a hand to her lover.

Even in the dark of the stables, Dorothea could see the blush that rose to Edelgard’s cheeks as the noble smiled fondly back at her. “Of course. My apologies,” she said, lacing her fingers in Dorothea’s and hauling herself upwards.

The horse snorted uncertainly and Dorothea stroked his neck in apology. Roz had been her faithful steed throughout the war, a fine partner befitting of her status as a Dark Knight. Now retired from his status as a war horse, he did little more than gallop across a pasture to be fed twice a day. She was honestly grateful he didn’t send them both flying in irritation at the added weight.

“No carriage,” Edelgard noted from behind. It was evident she didn’t mind, as she immediately took the opportunity to press herself flush against Dorothea’s back. Heat rose to her cheeks when she felt the Emperor’s lips press against the skin of her bare shoulder.

“I didn’t want to bother the staff. Most sensible people are asleep at this hour, after all,” she pointed out, clucking softly to Roz with a squeeze of her legs.

“Mm,” Edelgard hummed in reply, taking the jab without protest. She laid her chin in the crook of Dorothea’s neck, pulling the hood of her cloak down over her eyes as they set out down the streets of Enbarr.

There were very few people on the street so late at night, and Dorothea was thankful for the lack of prying eyes to worry about. If she looked close enough, she could catch glimpses of tiny forms scattered about in the shadows of the alleyways. The orphans would be about until the early hours of the morning, using the cover of night to steal what they needed and the safety of daylight to rest. She regretted not bringing any food or coin to give them.

Dorothea remembered her days on the streets of Enbarr, and not at all fondly. And yet, with Edelgard, she felt as if her fear of returning to those darker times was finally starting to fall behind her. 

“I feel like I’m in some sort of romantic opera, whisking my royal lover away like this.” Though she meant it as a joke, Dorothea couldn’t help but feel excited by the prospect. Many a time she had swooned over the operatic protagonists trying their best to navigate love and nobility. Never had she thought that she would be that very heroine.

Edelgard chuckled at the thought, sliding her arm around Dorothea’s waist to pull her closer still. “I suppose so. Does that make you the charming suitor the sweeps the princess off of her feet?”

Dorothea couldn’t help the childish grin that spread across her face. The very thought brought a warmth to her chest. “If that’s what you wish, my lady,” she purred, craning her neck to kiss the top of the Emperor’s head.

Edelgard groaned in response. “I’ve heard the words ‘my lady’ more times today than I want to hear in my entire life.”

A giggle slipped from Dorothea’s lips, and she couldn’t resist teasing further. “Would you prefer ‘darling’, then?”

There was a brief silence, and for a moment Dorothea feared that she had perhaps overstepped her bounds. For all the affection between them, their relationship still hovered around a hazy line of commitment. Edelgard had expressed in no uncertain terms that she was in love, but Dorothea still found herself sorting through her own emotions on the matter. She could catch fleeting feelings, like the one that had just surfaced, but never enough to commit to those three words she seemed to fear. Dorothea still couldn’t help herself from expressing those feelings out loud, if only to make sure she finally wasn’t dreaming that she had someone to say them to and truly _mean_ it. She could only hope and pray that Edelgard would not see them as insincere.

A soft hum of contentment by her ear eased her worries all at once. “Yes, actually. I think I’d love that.”

* * *

“If you open your eyes, I'll have you banned from the opera indefinitely." 

Edelgard smirked at the empty threat, but kept her eyes shut none the less as Dorothea led her by the hand through the halls of the opera house. “I’ve told you at least four times already that I won’t,” she pointed out, running her thumb across the songstress’s knuckles in reassurance.

“You also told me many more than four times that you’d never let any of my letters go unopened, you sap.” Dorothea countered.

“Ah, fair point.”

Guiding her up the stairs was a challenge, but Dorothea managed to finally lead the Emperor to center stage of the main hall. She took Edelgard gently by the shoulders, angling her just right for the view before stepping away. “Alright, take a look.”

When her eyes opened, the silence that followed was deafening. The Emperor glanced up at the stage, her jaw going slack in surprise. It was so very rare that Edelgard was the one hindered speechless.

“Dorothea,” she breathed, eyes wide at the extravagant scene. The opera had spared no expense for their production. Gilded decorations lined the borders of the stage, molded to fit the scenes of many of the company’s major shows. A grand, crystal chandelier hung over the audience’s seats, unlit but still magnificent all the same. The stage itself was decorated with matching grandeur for their biggest production since long before the war: _Lady of Hresvelg_.

"It's for Mittelfrank’s anniversary,” Dorothea elaborated, carefully lacing her fingers with the Emperor’s once more, “They were more than happy to put together a patriotic show, especially with the date almost matching the anniversary of the war ending. Can you believe it’s almost been a year now?”

A frown suddenly crossed Edelgard’s face, proving that Dorothea was unsuccessful in distracting her from one major detail. "I thought that I told you I wouldn't allow this production to go on,” she said, giving the brunette a sideways look.

"Ah, but I seem to remember you singing a very, very different tune when you visited a few nights ago," Dorothea countered with a knowing wink.

Edelgard was nearly scowling, but there was no true malice in her gaze. She couldn't even keep up the expression for very long when forced to meet the playful grin that spread to Dorothea’s eyes. She had never been able to resist Dorothea’s smiles, few as they were in comparison to their academy days. Instead, Edelgard chose to ignore the innuendo and took to wandering about the stage. 

Dorothea trailed close behind with their hands still intertwined, excited and terrified all the same. What Edelgard had said was not at all incorrect; she had initially forbade the opera from being staged altogether when she caught wind of the company’s plans. It had taken considerable argument by both the director and Dorothea herself to keep her from halting practices, and even more argument to convince her to leave all the plot’s details in the company’s hands. After days of ceaseless badgering, Edelgard had finally given up and told them to do as they pleased on the matter.

The bedroom escapades were simply an added bonus in the meantime.

Edelgard came to an abrupt halt as she came across the mural used for the finale’s backdrop. It was a grand piece commissioned from one of the finest artists in Enbarr, Dorothea remembered. The opera's director had insisted on nothing less. Dorothea found it comical, really. Edelgard was depicted as some sort of saintly figure, a gilded staff bearing Adrestia's double-headed eagle in one hand and Aymr in the other. An angel hovered in the background to crown her with a laurel wreath as she trampled the banners of the Alliance and Church alike. Dorothea was most fond of Hubert's dark form hidden in the background of the painting. She found it quite amusing that, after she had insisted to the director that he be included, the artist had chosen such a dubious interpretation.

Edelgard did not seem nearly as amused. She stood deathly still for a long while, her lavender gaze flitting across the mural many times. Then, without a word, she slowly lowered herself to sit on the floor in front of it.

Dorothea felt her chest tighten in worry. The mural was exaggerated, yes, but such was necessary. Nobody wanted to see an opera about a war of childhood friends killing childhood friends and the horror that accompanied. The people of Fodlan wanted to see heroes; men and women larger than life giving grand speeches and charging across rolling fields to keep their country safe. Dorothea couldn’t blame them for that fact. It was so much easier to remember things that way.

At the same time, Dorothea understood how the scene before them could be jarring. They had not talked extensively on the matter, but she knew Edelgard was not proud of the blood they had shed. She did not revel in it and she did not brood over it, she simply moved on. Slowing down to look behind her, even in the form of a lively opera, had to be at least a little bit difficult. “Are you...alright?” she asked when the silence became too much to bear.

A brief, curt nod came in response. “It’s quite a bit to take in.”

Dorothea sat on the floor behind Edelgard, gently laying a hand on her shoulder. “I’m afraid the artist won’t be changing that ridiculous nose they gave you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she joked.

Edelgard chuckled softly despite herself before gazing up at the mural once more. Her brow furrowed, deep in thought. “If I’m being quite honest, I don’t know how I’m going to feel seeing my whole life play out in front of me. I can barely recognize myself in this painting.”

Dorothea tugged gently on Edelgard’s sleeve, sliding across the stage to a nearby box that she could lean against before taking the smaller woman into her arms. “It’s just an exaggerated production about the Unification. Nothing too embarrassing, I promise.”

Edelgard reclined against them songstress in earnest, finally tearing her gaze from the mural to glance at the floorboards instead. “The Unification is by far one of the worst parts to stomach.”

Dorothea held back the urge to ask what she meant by her wording. One of the worst? Day after day the war had chipped away at the songstress. Blood was always on her hands, and she could never seem to wash it all away before more took its place. Even then, on the main stage of the opera house, she could not suppress a shudder at some of the thoughts she had repressed for so long.

The war was horrid. The war was hell on earth. How could a noble like Edelgard have ever experienced something worse?

A thought occurred to Dorothea, and with her lover curled snugly in her arms she was emboldened to speak. “Sometimes I feel that, even with all we’ve shared with each other, I don’t know you very well,” she admitted, using her thumb to rub a gentle circle at the back of Edelgard’s neck.

The pale-haired woman hummed softly at the gesture, dipping her head to bare her neck further. “What would you like to know?”

Dorothea had to bite her tongue to stay the first thought that came to mind. The scars that mottled her skin, ones only seen the briefest flashes of their most intimate moments together, were much too heavy a topic. Besides, she had promised herself she would leave that for a time when Edelgard was ready. Unfortunately, there was not much about Edelgard von Hresvelg that was not a heavy topic. She decided to settle for something a bit lighter. “Tell me about your mother.”

“I wish I could,” Edelgard sighed. “Truthfully, I don’t remember much. After my uncle took us to Fhirdiad I didn't get the chance to see her as often.” She took a pause, and Dorothea could pinpoint a wistful look in her eye as memories came and went. "In Enbarr, when I was younger, I remember being happy when I was with her. I remember spending a lot of time together, I suppose since I was her only child and my father was busy with his wife and other heirs."

Dorothea nodded, hanging on every word. It was so rare that Edelgard opened up about her past. Her history was far from well known in the kingdom, with much of Ionius IX’s reign being dominated by the Insurrection. It was something she had always been curious about.

“I’d like to believe she and my father were very much in love, though. I know she was only ever one of his mistresses in title, but he always talked about her so fondly even after everyone else in his life was gone," Edelgard said, absentmindedly running her fingers along Dorothea's leg.

“Mistresses, hm?” The songstress repeated, feeling her chest tighten ever so slightly. While it was hard to ever forget that Edelgard was a noble, it was often easy to forget all the expectations involved with such a rank. “I suppose the emperors of the past have always had quite a collection of lovers for their heirs and whatnot. Something to look forward to, huh?” she quipped.

Edelgard went rigid in her arms. The Emperor said nothing for a few moments, and worry seized every muscle in Dorothea’s body in response. She had only meant to make a joke to lighten her feelings on the subject, but it seemed that she had struck a nerve. Finally, Edelgard turned abruptly to face her, resting on her knees in front of the brunette. 

“I’m not my father,” she said, on the brink of sounding outright angry. “I am not like any Emperor before me. I didn’t go to war with the Church to be tied down by the absurdity of political marriages and thoughts of producing heirs.” 

Dorothea knew it was not directed at her, but she couldn't help but flinch at the sharp change in tone. A look of sudden uncertainty crossed Edelgard's eyes, and for a moment it almost seemed as if she would reach out and take Dorothea's hands in her own. She apparently decided against the action, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt instead. “I didn’t— I don’t—” She began to fumble through her words when the talk of lineage and revolution faded and only talk of their relationship remained. The chewing of the lip began, and Dorothea knew she could only wait and let Edelgard work everything our on her own. “I've told you before that I don't care about all of that," she decided finally. "The Emperors of the past and their traditions be damned. None of them had you.”

Dorothea felt as if all the breath had left her lungs. Sometimes—no, most of the time—it was so hard to forget that Edelgard wasn’t a fictional protagonist in one of Mittlefrank’s grand romances. How could she not be, with all the grandiose things she said? 

“Goddess, Edie, do you hear yourself?” was all the songstress could muster in response.

Edelgard’s face flushed absolutely, completely red as she screwed her eyes shut. “All the time, unfortunately,” she admitted, “I’m afraid you draw out the public speaker in me far too much. But I want--no, I need you to know that I mean what I say. I don't know what the future holds for us, but I know that I want you with me." Edelgard planted her palms firmly on her knees, daring to meet Dorothea's gaze once more. "And only you," she added quickly, as if she had almost forgot why she was saying such things in the first place.

Dorothea gave an airy laugh, grasping the front of Edelgard's shirt. She pulled her closer until their lips met, bringing her free hand up to tangle her fingers in the noble's hair. Edelgard relaxed against her quickly, a feeling Dorothea would never grow tired of. No regal posture, no guarded touch, just Edie there in her arms. A woman who loved her.

A woman who she was very much beginning to realize she loved back.

"I want that, too. More than anything," Dorothea whispered against her mouth, nipping briefly at the Emperor's bottom lip to lighten the mood as she finally pulled away. A million things ran through her mind to say, but she couldn't bring herself to broach any more uncertain topics for the night. She would tell Edelgard what she was feeling, all in due time. "I must admit that being one of the Emperor's pampered lovers does sound rather tempting, though."

The smile that crossed Edelgard’s face was absolutely radiant as she practically snorted with laughter. "Isn't that exactly what you are now?" she asked, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of the songstress's forehead for emphasis.

"As it is, I feel like I'm the one doing most of the pampering." Dorothea pointed out, gesturing to their current position.

Edelgard suddenly collapsed against her in mock exasperation. "Dorothea, I would give you anything you could ever want if I could only keep my eyes open for more than ten minutes,” she murmured. Dorothea had a hard time guessing if the subsequent yawn she gave was planned or just oddly convenient. She decided to give the weary noble a pass for the night.

"Then I'd best get you into bed, my beloved Emperor." Dorothea stood, sweeping her into a bridal carry before she could even begin to protest. It was a feat she was quite proud of, considering she hadn't lifted much more than stage props in quite some time. She supposed the six years of swinging swords around had been good for something.

Edelgard laughed, wrapping her arms around Dorothea’s neck. The Emperor rested her head against her shoulder, falling quiet as they started towards her private quarters in the opera house. After a while, she shifted in Dorothea's grip. "When did you finally decide that you loved me?"

A long time ago, Dorothea wanted to say. And yet as hard as she tried, she couldn’t. Not yet. “Seems like you’re just hearing things tonight, darling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dark FE3H show me the forbidden Patricia lore
> 
> If you'd like to keep up with me, you can find me on my twitter @nunwithgun! It's mostly filled with FE-related content at the moment anyways. Hope to have the next chapter out soon!


	2. Chapter II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"With torment not to be confess'd,  
Peace and I are strangers grown.  
I languish till my grief is known,  
Yet would not have it guess'd."_

Sometimes Dorothea had nightmares.

They became graciously sparse after the end of the war, but she could still remember a time when she found herself bolting awake in her tent night after night. Sometimes someone would be there to comfort her while she cried. Petra, in particular. The Brigidan woman had a keen ear, and stayed awake much too late into the night for her own good. She also had an excellent shoulder to cry on and a heart of gold. Many a time there was no one, and she was left only with the ghastly visions of the casualties she herself had inflicted, of the allies she had been unable to save.

Dorothea had them enough that she could always tell when she was in a dream, but could never quite solve the riddle of how to pull herself out. Even now, she knew that the choked gasps and soft cries around her were not real. The shrill pitch that assaulted her ears was merely a product of her own mind.

No, that wasn't right. She was awake. Someone was screaming.

Edelgard.

Dorothea felt terror grip her and she clamored for the dagger she kept at her nightstand. The world was a blur as she raised to her knees on the bed and held the blade high, her eyes desperately scanning the darkness for attackers.

There was no one. The door was locked, the windows closed. The flicker of a dying candle she had forgotten to extinguish before they fell asleep illuminated Edelgard's tiny form beside her, looking much too crumpled and much too small.

"Edie?" Dorothea breathed, tossing her dagger aside and leaning closer. She was curled into herself, her breathing shallow and a hitch to each inhalation. The muscles of her forearms grew taut as she grabbed at her hair, face completely obscured from view.

When Dorothea reached to lay a hand on her shoulder, the Emperor flinched away as if she had been struck. The songstress was forced to roll away as Edelgard's hands came out in front of her to lash out at an unseen enemy. Lavender eyes darted everywhere in room but towards the woman before her, frantic and panicked as if she knew not where she was. 

And then, when realization dawned in her gaze, Edelgard grew deathly still. Only a slight tremble of her shoulders remained, and if Dorothea strained she could hear the shaky breaths that accompanied. The songstress tried to swallow past the lump that was forming in her throat, her chest tight with concern. "Edie, what's wrong?"

No response. Edelgard pulled her arms back to her chest, screwing her eyes shut and taking slower, deeper inhalations.

"Edelgard, _look at me_,” Dorothea pleaded, bringing a cautious hand to cup her cheek. The sound of her full name was enough to make the noble meet her lover's eyes for only a fraction of a second before she could hold her gaze no longer. She curled into herself once more, almost as if in shame.

Dorothea felt a sting in her eyes, and it took everything in her to hold back tears of her own. Empathy surged in her chest as she laid down beside Edelgard and slid closer, pulling the blankets over them once more.

Dorothea knew she could not pry anything out of the ruler that she did not want to share, but it killed her to see one of the strongest women she knew suffer in silence. Every instinct screamed at her to reach out once more, to have Edelgard tell her everything and to solve all her problems with a kiss or declaration of love. But she knew this was where the operas fell short. They didn't talk about the endless barriers of trauma that tragedy induced, or about the guilt that hung in the silence between an Emperor steeling herself to the world and an orphan unable to break past her own sorrows to say what she needed to hear. The opera was for heroes and heroines, not two women patching up the wounds in their minds from past and present alike. And so she laid there, the mere inches between them feeling like miles.

Edelgard was slow to come back to herself, as if trying to wall off every weakness before even daring to speak. When she finally, fully met Dorothea's gaze with her own, the songstress extended her arms in a wordless invitation. Edelgard immediately moved closer to bury her face in the fabric of Dorothea's nightshirt, going completely and utterly silent. There were no sobs, no screams, no words. Her fingers grabbed at Dorothea's back hard enough to bruise.

"Edie, it's alright,” Dorothea whispered, resting her chin atop the Emperor's head. "It's okay, I promise. Whatever it was, it's not real."

The tension returned to Edelgard's body and her grip tightened further. "It was. A long time ago," she said, her voice breaking in a way the songstress had never heard before.

Dorothea felt her breath catch for a moment. There it was again, that unspeakable truth. It was the secret that Edelgard hid under the scars and the nightmares, the one topic that would not be broached between the two. She couldn't even begin to fathom what would make the Emperor of Fódlan, slayer of kings and saints alike, tremble in fear and scream in her sleep. "Perhaps. But it's not real right now," she said. "You're here. You're with me. You're safe."

Silence hung in the air, and this time Dorothea let it stay. Little by little, she felt Edelgard relax against her, her heaving chest finally slowing to long, languid breaths. Dorothea took to running her fingers through her colorless locks. The flicker of the candle even died out, finally leaving them alone in the dark.

Just when she thought the Emperor had drifted off, she spoke. "I thought I was done with this nonsense. Dreaming of the past. Crying like a child."

"Oh, Edie." Dorothea pulled her closer, wishing she could have an instant solution to it all. She knew better than anyone that wouldn't be the case. "Things like this don't magically fix themselves."

"I hate it," Edelgard murmured, almost too soft to be heard. 

Dorothea carefully slid her hand underneath the Emperor's shirt, tracing gentle circles at the tension lines that had tightened between her shoulder blades. There was nothing to say, and she hated it so. Her fingers brushed over bumps and depressions of scar tissue as she worked along the Emperor's back. Anger flared in her chest.

Dorothea was not a violent woman. The war had shown her that she had a heart far too fragile in the face of bloodshed. But she wanted to hurt whoever had done such a thing to Edelgard. 

“There’s nothing to be done about it. Crying doesn’t help me." Edelgard almost sounded as if she were chiding herself, furious at her own emotions.

Dorothea knew the feeling all too well. She had tried so many times to move past her own regret and leave all her guilt by the wayside. What was done had been done, and there was no use in sorrow when so much good had come from the sacrifices made. But human emotions were never quite in tune with logic, and Edelgard desperately needed to be reminded that she was, indeed, still _human_. “I know it feels that way. But you can’t keep all of this closed up inside you.” She paused, considering her next few words carefully. 

“When we were marching in Faerghus years ago, I had a nightmare or two," Dorothea admitted at last. She was underestimating the number, but she would never let Edelgard know that. There was no need to make her feel worse on the matter. "It doesn't make you a child to slow down and mourn the past. It makes you human."

The Emperor was quiet, and for several moments they were left only with their own thoughts. Dorothea silently willed her words to take hold, praying that Edelgard would just listen and let her in. The barrier between them was so real, so palpable to her and she felt it now more than ever. It killed her that she was closer with someone than she had ever been before in her lifetime, and yet she felt as if that person was still just beyond her reach. She would give anything to be able to move that extra inch, to give Edelgard the hope and help she needed.

She would give anything to be able to mend the woman she loved. If she could just do that, wouldn't that mean there was still hope left for herself?

"I'm sorry for waking you," the whisper came at last.

Dorothea couldn't help but laugh, despite the twinge of disappointment she felt at curtain closing on their conversation. Only Edelgard would apologize for something as blameless as having a nightmare. "Please, don't be."

Dorothea pulled away briefly, bringing herself back to eye level with the Emperor and placing her cheeks between the palms of her hands. "Edie, I want you to know that I'm here for you. That's something that's not going to change, whatever happens between us." When she saw what seemed to be a pained hesitation in her gaze, Dorothea leaned forward to press their foreheads together. "I know you've been through so much, and I know you carry everything on your shoulders. I can help you. I _want _to help you. As much as you'll let me."

Edelgard said nothing in response, the air unusually tight between the two as she furrowed her brow and pursed her lips. She shifted, as if she was going to sit up to say something, but instead buried her face in the brunette's shoulder. The songstress decided not to comment on the wetness she suddenly felt there. She simply resumed running her fingers across Edelgard's back, leaving gentle touches of reassurance as she went.

"Thank you, Dorothea," Edelgard choked out, her voice uncharacteristically hoarse.

Dorothea nodded, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She still felt as if there was so much she needed say, but the last thing she wanted to do was push Edelgard in her current state. As frustrating as it was to do so, she would leave things as they were, for now. "No need to thank me, darling."

When she felt Edelgard trembling against her again, Dorothea's first through was that something gone awry. The sound of chattering teeth told her otherwise.

"Are you...shivering?" Even the somber mood couldn't hold back the laugh that escaped Dorothea's lips as Edelgard nodded sharply, pulling the covers all the way up to her neck. The songstress smiled, carefully removing herself from her lover’s embrace. “I’ll go find us some more blankets. Will you be alright on your own?”

“Yes, of course.” Edelgard suddenly looked indignant on the matter, as if she hadn’t been trembling uncontrollably only moments before. But she softened at the kiss Dorothea laid against her temple, giving her thanks in a gentle murmur.

Leaving her bed had never been harder for Dorothea, and when she glanced over her shoulder on the way to the door she realized it was because she was growing fond of seeing Edelgard in it. It was undoubtedly hard, knowing there was so much left unsaid on both of their parts. Yet as she made her way down the hall, she couldn't help but feel as if things were slowly being set in motion. They were still working, still progressing, still growing. 

Dorothea was realizing that, despite it all, she was happier than she had been in a long, long time. She was happy, all the way up to the moment when the blade of the assassin's knife pierced her skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Main plot has to start somewhere, sorry friends. :) I had this short chapter already written up before the first one, so the next update won't come quite as quickly and I apologize for that in advance. Things get interesting from here on out, I promise.


	3. Chapter III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"In life’s springtime days,  
happiness has escaped me.  
The truth, I dared speak it,  
and these chains are my reward."_

Edelgard von Hresvelg had lost many, many things in her life. Her mother, her siblings, her unmarked skin. Her friends at the monastery, her chance at a normal youth, her father. 

Her step-brother.

The losses she had endured were always painful, and the more she grew the more she found ways to avoid the ever-growing aches they put in her chest. After the horrors she had experienced at the hands of her uncle, she had learned to lessen the burden on herself and to never hold anyone too close. Nearly losing her Professor had been a grim refresher in that lesson. 

If you didn’t hold anyone too close, it wouldn't hurt as much when the world pried them away from you. It was as simple as that.

When the war had ended, she had gotten lax. She had thought her losses were over. Edelgard was the Emperor of a united Fódlan, free from an oppressive church and free to shape the world as she pleased. Who could have possibly touched such a mighty figure?

She cursed that mighty figure for not realizing that her uncle would take full advantage of her lapse in judgement.

The assailant had been quick, but Dorothea had been ruthless. By the time Edelgard had barreled into the hallway following the frenzied shouts of conflict, she was met only with a crumpled body on the floor and a bleeding songstress leaned against the wall. 

He had not managed to hurt her severely, thank whatever Goddess there may have been. He had missed her heart and instead buried his blade in the back of her shoulder before being pierced clean through by the songstress’s magic. Edelgard was secretly relieved at the fact that her uncle had underestimated Dorothea so. Had there been poison involved, the situation would have been very different.

Now, she could only wait in the office of one of the city's many Hevring Clinics, wringing her hands and pacing back and forth just as she had done for the past hour. She had been more than grateful when Linhardt had proposed the idea to open a medical provider in each district in Enbarr following the war's end, but she had never imagined that she would end up utilizing one of them.

She made a mental note to send him a hefty donation for his latest research project in gratitude.

The healer, an elderly man with a beard very much befitting an experienced mage, hobbled out the door after what seemed like an eternity of waiting. He slowly lowered into a reverent bow. Edelgard acknowledged his gesture with an impatient wave of her hand. Now was not the time for formalities and customs, especially seeing as she was standing in the middle of his office in only one of Dorothea's old nightshirts and a half-buttoned pair of breeches. She hardly looked the part of an Emperor, and the role was far from the forefront of her mind.

"I’ve done what I can for the moment, Your Majesty. She should be fine, provided she rest and follow her wound care regimen." The healer smiled at her, a knowing twinkle in his eye. "She is a talented one, that Miss Arnault. The healing spells she cast to stabilize herself before you arrived made my job quite simple."

Edelgard nodded tersely, murmuring words of thanks under her breath. Noting the tension in her brow, the healer shuffled aside to gesture towards the room from which he had come. "If you'd like to see her, she's at the end of the hall."

Edelgard gave her thanks once more, this time stepping past him before he could even begin another bow. It was not the she was ungrateful; quite the opposite, indeed. But she was anxious to see Dorothea, and she knew the longer she waited the more tempted she would be to flee into the night before saying what she needed to say.

The walk down the hallway felt much longer than it should have been. Each step seemed to take tremendous effort as thoughts flew through Edelgard’s mind in a whirlwind. Doubt weighed heavily on the decision she had made during the wait. She knew what she had to do to keep Dorothea safe, but that hardly made it any easier.

Edelgard opened the door slowly, peering past to see Dorothea’s bare back facing her from the bed. She looked less pale than she had on the ride over, but the color still hadn't quite returned to her skin. A thick bandage curved around her chest and shoulder, the back of it tinged red from where blood was already starting to seep through. Her arm hung limply in a sling of cloth.

Edelgard cleared her throat softly, prompting the songstress to straighten and look over her shoulder. The brilliant smile that lit up her expression frustrated the Emperor. Dorothea should've been angry for being put in danger. Dorothea should've been furious. It would've been so much easier to have further justification for the fury Edelgard felt with herself.

"There you are! I was starting to think you'd gotten tired of waiting and run off." Dorothea patted the bed at her side, kicking away the remnants of her bloodstained shirt and bandages of the same hue that littered the floor around her. Edelgard was finding it difficult to swallow past the lump in her throat as she nodded briefly and sat down.

The Emperor found her eyes locked on the bloodied bandage. It looked so distinctly _wrong_, yet she couldn't quite articulate why. Dorothea was far from without scars, herself. Edelgard had seen her bruised and bandaged many a time throughout the war, just as she had with many of her friends and allies. None of the members of the Black Eagles Strike Force were strangers to injury.

It dawned on Edelgard that it was because the war was a time when she did not _know _Dorothea. Edelgard had come to memorize every part of her lover, including her scars. There was a line across her back where a Knight of Seiros had caught her off guard at their assault on Garreg Mach, and a spot on the back of her calf from a wayward arrow. A jagged streak across her inner thigh was all that remained from their duel with the Immaculate One.

The lesion in her shoulder was something she did not know. It was something foreign and new, and it was Edelgard’s visible reminder of her failure to protect the woman she loved.

Dorothea seemed to notice her straying eyes and shifted her arm in its sling experimentally. "Edie, you look like you're the one that's been stabbed. It's barely a nick, darling." The songstress gently took Edelgard's hand in her own, pressing a kiss to her knuckles in reassurance. "This isn't the first time someone's made an attempt on my life, by far," she said with a proud grin. Indeed, Edelgard seemed to remember her saying something long ago about the perils of opera stardom. Though she did have to acknowledge that breaking a man's arm for an attempted kidnapping and destroying an assassin's heart for an attempted murder were at two very different levels.

"The healer said that your spells kept you stable for the ride over," Edelgard managed to say at last. She gripped Dorothea's hand tightly in her own, her eyes trained on the floor as she spoke. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to be of any help.”

"I'd hardly say you were of no help." Dorothea nudged at the Emperor with her good shoulder, still brandishing the warmest smile despite it all. Edelgard wanted so badly to tell her she didn't deserve such a gesture. "I knew you were strong, but I had no clue you could run so fast with a grown woman in your arms. It almost seemed like we didn't even need to use Roz for the trip." 

The horse. Another individual that Edelgard would have to make sure to thank at a later time. She had not even bothered to find his tack, riding him bareback through the night with Dorothea in a tight grip in front of her. Even now, the poor animal was haphazardly tied to a post outside, likely still panting from the whirlwind of a ride.

A bag of coin to Linhardt and a bag of carrots to Mittelfrank's stablemaster. She was one "thank you" gift away from starting a genuine list, but it all seemed trivial in exchange for Dorothea's well-being.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, taking the opportunity to lean ever so slightly against her lover. Edelgard prayed that Dorothea would not notice her stalling for time. The painful small talk was all worth it if she could be by the songstress's side, if only for a little bit longer.

Dorothea shrugged, wincing slightly as she realized the movement took a bit more muscle commitment than she was ready for. "Fine, honestly," she said through gritted teeth. Upon Edelgard's frown of disapproval, she straightened and put on a much more amiable expression. "The director will have a fit, but I'm sure I’ll be ready to perform on opening night.”

In the chaos, Edelgard had admittedly forgotten all about the opera. All that grandeur and fanfare from Mittelfrank was for someone who brought an assassin into their midst. It seemed as if the guilt she felt was becoming tangible in the air around them with each passing moment. “That’s good."

“I suppose we’ll have to increase security at Mittlefrank, as well. That talk has been a long time coming, though,” Dorothea sighed.

Edelgard nodded, though she knew she would not trust even an entire battalion of mercenaries with Dorothea's safety. "I'm going to assign one of my best knights to be with you at all times. He'll make sure no one so much as looks at you the wrong way.”

The bridge of Dorothea's nose began to crinkle, as if she was amused by prospect of having a bodyguard. "Edie, I can take care of myself, really. Besides, with you by my side I really won't have to..." She trailed off, finally cluing in the pained expression Edelgard had tried so hard to hide.

Because it _hurt_. She knew what she had to do, something she had done many times before without a second thought. The only way to remove the target from Dorothea's back was to remove herself from the songstress's side. If her uncle really thought he had found Edelgard's weakness, he would not rest until she had cut it out of herself. But the very thought of cutting away Dorothea hurt her beyond belief. "I won't be visiting the opera for a while."

Dorothea said nothing, her fingers stiff and suddenly feeling like dead weight in Edelgard's own. Part of her wished she had just left as soon as they had arrived, if only so she didn’t have to be present to face the horrible look of realization brewing in the songstress’s gaze. The better part of her knew she would never forgive herself for leaving Dorothea without saying goodbye.

"I..." She despised how the words caught in her throat, how the corners of her eyes stung. Edelgard knew she would not cry, but the feeling settling over her nearly made her buckle. "I think it's best if I keep my distance. For your safety.”

Dorothea's hand finally left hers and the songstress shifted on the bed to face her lover. "Edelgard, don't you dare do this."

The sound of her full name from Dorothea's lips was so foreign, Edelgard had to suppress a flinch. “There’s so much you don’t know, Dorothea. I can't—"

"Then _tell _me!" The plead in her voice made everything harder still. "I told you that I'm here for you. You have to stop shutting me out like this!"

Oh, how she wanted to. There was nothing Edelgard wanted more than to confide in Dorothea Arnault. She wanted to trust her. She wanted to hold true to the declaration of love she had so brazenly made and give Dorothea everything she could ever want. But trust and love was nothing but a finely-painted target to her uncle. 

Edelgard rose to her feet, daring to look at Dorothea once more. The songstress’s eyes were brimming with tears, the emerald hues that so often looked on her in adoration now twisted in hurt. The Emperor felt as if her heart might burst. "I'm sorry, Dorothea. I have to go."

"Edie, please! You don't have to—"

"Your bodyguard will be here before daybreak," Edelgard interrupted. Every movement felt like her limbs were lead weights as she turned her back on Dorothea and began her escape. "I'll make sure of it."

"Edelgard!"

It took everything in her not to crumple in on herself as she closed the door between them. She shouldn’t have looked at Dorothea's eyes.

* * *

"Point."

Edelgard tumbled to the ground for the fourth time of the training session, bruising the bruises already on her back before they could even fully form. Sparring was a welcome distraction from the tempest that was her mind, but she was beginning to think that having Byleth as her partner was an unwise choice. The former professor had a bit of an unintentional mean streak when it came to combat, training or otherwise. Remnants from years of being a mercenary combined with not knowing her own strength certainly made for a painful drilling period.

Edelgard glared up at the hand extended to her, a bit tired of being thrown on her back for the day. She accepted it none the less and Byleth hauled her to her feet once more. Her teacher gave an awkward pat on the shoulder before taking her position at the opposite side of the ring. “Again,” she said.

"I don't think that I'm being too cautious about this," Edelgard declared to the empty air of the courtyard. She leveled the practice blade at her friend, their dance beginning anew. They paced around each other in circles just as they had several times before, eyes of both lavender and indigo flitting about in silent preparation.

"I must agree with you, Your Majesty," Hubert called from the edge of the sparring ring, snapping the tome he had been reading shut in order to turn his focus to the topic at hand, "I believe this has been the best course of option to keep both you and Dorothea safe."

Edelgard nodded as her fingers clenched around the wooden sword in her hands something fierce. It had been two weeks since she had left Dorothea in the Hevring Clinic, but time did nothing to dull the frustration and ire she felt with herself. The collection of unopened letters on her desk grew by the day, unbroken rose seals taunting her every time she sat down to work. The knight she had appointed to Dorothea's side was thankfully diligent in keeping her away from the palace while supplying Hubert with regular updates. Unfortunately, reports could only do so much for Edelgard's anxiety over the whole situation.

The last thing she had ever wanted to do was hurt Dorothea, but she knew that she had done so none the less.

"There are many risks involved in having strong emotional attachments.” For better or worse, Hubert was her constant voice of reason. Hearing such words of confirmation from him would normally serve to ease her nerves and bolster her confidence. Now, they just rang hollow in her ears as he continued, “I cannot say your happiness should not be a priority, but I fear for both of you."

Of course she would get attached. Of course that attachment would be exploited. Edelgard had gone twenty-five long years of her life without ever truly trusting someone with her heart. She had been strong, unwavering and willing to face the world all on her own if need be. Now, the one time she felt as if she could truly have someone beside her— 

The flat of Byleth's blade met her side with a sharp crack, sending the Emperor stumbling sideways.

"Point."

Edelgard ground her teeth together, begrudgingly acknowledging her teacher with a nod. While Byleth was very much a woman of few words, her silence in the conversation was beginning to be nerve-wracking. "Do you really have nothing to say on the matter?"

Byleth blinked, her expression giving little away per the usual. Edelgard was secretly thankful for the reprieve from training when the mercenary began to lean on her practice sword. A pause hung in the air as Byleth rubbed at her chin in thought. "It seems like there are other solutions to the issue," she said at last.

Edelgard couldn't help but huff at her cryptic answer. "Which are...?"

"I could compile a list for you,” Byleth offered.

Edelgard shook her head with an exasperated sigh. Although she had been the one to ask for the level-headed mercenary's input, for once she felt as if the pragmatic approach would do nothing to ease her mind. "I fear none of them would address the danger she's in, my teacher. I cannot ask her to stay close to me when I know that my uncle will pursue her at every turn," she said before tossing her weapon to the ground. The training session was over, the Emperor decided as she found her water flask at the edge of the ring.

"You're close with us." Byleth jabbed a finger in Hubert's direction for emphasis. 

"You all can protect yourselves," Edelgard countered, taking a long sip before wiping her mouth on her ruffled sleeve.

Byleth's brow furrowed ever so slightly. "You think that the woman who put a bolt of Thoron through the chest of an Agarthan assassin while only in her night shirt is weak?" Though it would be a mocking challenge from anybody else, from Byleth Eisner it was honest confusion.

Edelgard hated that such a confusion was likely warranted. She knew very well that Dorothea was more than capable of protecting herself. "No, I don't think she's weak. You misunderstand, my teacher. I just—" Edelgard found herself lost for words to fully explain her feelings on the matter, just as she had weeks prior in the clinic. She had already asked so much of Dorothea during the war. The songstress had spent day in and day out fighting to survive, and Edelgard still felt a distinct guilt for what that did to her during those days. She never wanted to put Dorothea in a situation where she had to fear for her life ever again. 

"There's no room for anyone in my life until we finish what we have started. Until my uncle and his minions are dead and gone," Edelgard decided, feeling as if she was reasoning with herself instead of the mercenary across the ring.

"Will Dorothea wait for that?" Byleth asked.

A pause. "I...I don't know,” Edelgard admitted.

Byleth pursed her lips, and Edelgard could have sworn she saw an fleeting look of concern in her eyes. "Do you have enough time for that?"

"Professor, that's—"

Edelgard held up a hand to silence the Count’s quick interjection. "Let her speak, Hubert." 

Byleth shrugged. "There's nothing more to say. It's as simple as that, and you know why." When she noticed Edelgard's eyes drift to her feet in thought, she took the opportunity to continue. "This isn't like the Unification, El. We have the upper hand in this war, and Volkhard is the one with his back to the wall. We have powerful people on our side that have followed us into battle against an actual saint," she asserted, nodding towards a thoughtful-looking Hubert once more to prove her point. "We need their support and more if we're ever going to outgrow his, and he knows that. He's trying to keep you in line and keep that support from you, and you're letting him."

Edelgard hated her uncle with a passion. Some smaller part of her, the little girl that hadn't quite escaped from the palace dungeons yet, still feared him, as well. She had spent the better part of her life being his pawn and falling in line with his every plan and scheme. For so long, stepping out of that line had meant people had died. What started as punishing her crippled and frail siblings for her disobedience had transcended to the destruction of an entire city during the war. If she dared to let her thoughts go to darker places, she could see Dorothea's bloody demise more clearly than she ever wanted to in her lifetime. 

"I don't know if I can risk losing her," Edelgard admitted after a long silence, the words barely a whisper for fear that the whole world could hear the great Emperor's weakness verbalized.

The somber look Byleth and Hubert shared was quick, but it did not go unnoticed. The mercenary moved closer to clasp a hand on Edelgard's shoulder, a much gentler touch than she was used to from her gruff teacher. "El, I don't think you realize how much she doesn't want to lose you, either."

Edelgard glanced up to meet her teacher's gaze, finding a warmth there that had only appeared a precious few times since she had regained her humanity. When the Emperor found herself speechless in response, Byleth simply gave her another pat on the back and stepped away to gather her belongings.

As if Edelgard's thoughts were not already turbulent enough. The simple philosophies she had lived by for so many years were unraveling in front of her, all because of Dorothea. Where she had once been decisive and swift, keeping just out of reach of those around her, she now found herself slowing down for a songstress's beautiful smile. The thought of Dorothea caring for her, loving her, unwilling to lose her, was bringing the Emperor to a standstill.

It all felt foolish, and yet she couldn't bring herself to move forward just yet.

"What if I brought her here?" Edelgard was mostly thinking aloud, but the plan didn't sound as foolish as she had originally thought when it escaped her lips. "Have her stay in the palace." 

"So you'd cage her?" Byleth asked, twirling her sword about her palm as she retrieved her coat from the edge of the ring.

Edelgard shook her head firmly. "I wouldn't make her stay here against her will," she corrected.

Byleth caught her sword and slung it over her shoulder, brow cocked in uncharacteristic surprise. "So you'd ask her to come live with you?"

Edelgard could've sworn she heard Hubert's pen crack in his grip. Cue the interjection.

"Your Majesty,” he began, striding to her side in record time, “I can't imagine that would be the wisest decision. I know you and Dorothea are...close.” When he caught sight of Byleth mouthing the word “close” in jest over his shoulder, the mage cleared his throat and clarified, “And that is perfectly acceptable. However, bringing her to the palace is a very public action."

"What's public about having Dorothea come to live here?" Byleth asked without missing a beat. It was times such as these when Edelgard truly couldn't tell if the mercenary was genuinely curious or just interested in antagonizing Hubert. The two, along with Ferdinand and all his vigor, had built a steady rapport as her trusted advisers following the war's end, but with Byleth's beating heart had come a multitude of emotions that she seemed to test at the oddest of times. Hubert, as one of her counterparts, took the brunt of most of them. "You live here. I visit all the time. Petra spent a full month at the palace during the talks on Brigid's independence."

Hubert turned to Byleth in full, shaking his head at her straightforward reasoning. "Surely you've heard the rumors, Professor. Bringing Dorothea in particular to live in the palace would practically be a declaration of marriage in the public's eyes."

"Isn't that what El wants to do, anyways?"

Hubert interjected again before Edelgard could choke out a surprised response. "Lady Edelgard's personal and public intentions are different matters. Until Those Who Slither in the Dark are dealt with, we must have as little scandal in the air as possible," he explained, crossing his arms as if to end the conversation.

Byleth, in all her emotional intelligence, blew past the gesture. "Hmph. Noble etiquette is so odd," she murmured, this time appearing genuinely confused by it all once more. "In my father's troupe, it was hardly 'scandalous' if you were sleeping with someone. In fact, things were really only interesting if someone found out you were doing something out of the ordinary, like using a—"

"Both of you, _please _stop. None of this is helping." Edelgard pinched the bridge of her nose, nearly at the point of a headache over their back and forth. She could feel her cheeks heating at the odd turn the conversation had taken. Yet as aimless as their advice was, it had given her a chance to sort out her thoughts. 

Edelgard turned to her trusted adviser, her mind already focused on a change of plans. “Hubert, answer me this: would the palace be safer for Dorothea?”

Hesitation flashed across Hubert’s gaze, but it faded quickly upon meeting the determination in hers. “Of course, your majesty. I would make sure of it, if that was what you wanted,” he promised with a nod of deference.

If that was what she wanted. Edelgard was no liar. She had meant everything she had shared with Dorothea over the past few months, from her awkward confessions to her affectionate touches. When she thought of Dorothea, she could envision a future beyond all the strife and conflict that made her crown feel so heavy on her head. For so long, Edelgard von Hresvelg had presented herself to the world as a mythic figure, a champion of revolution and a savior of the downtrodden. If she was anything less, she would have caved under the weight of her crown long ago. She would have been human.

But Dorothea didn't care about all that. Dorothea didn't love Edelgard von Hresvelg, first of her name, last of her bloodline and Emperor of Fódlan. Dorothea loved Edie, and that was all she wanted.

"Mittelfrank's production opens tomorrow night, correct? You could talk to her on the matter after the performance," Byleth offered, whacking her sword against some weeds in the ring absentmindedly. Edelgard appreciated not being on the other end of the blade for once.

"All of this assumes that Dorothea will be gracious enough to speak with me," she murmured. Memories of a pained green gaze was suddenly flashing before her once more, and she felt her stomach twist in guilt.

Byleth gave a crooked smile, a feat so rare Edelgard almost thought she was dreaming up the expression. "I can make sure of that," she said.

Hubert gave a wary look, but Edelgard chose to ignore his caution for once. "You have something in mind?" she prompted, brow raised in all her curiosity. Despite her faults when it came to emotion, Byleth was a well-traveled mercenary with many stories that she shared with many people. Surely she had to have some expertise in the matter of romance, or at least more than Edelgard herself. 

"It'll be a conversation-starter, I'm sure of it." Byleth's reassurance only served to further Hubert's visible anxiety, but Edelgard had very little time on her hands. She would have to trust her mentor.

"Very well. Hubert, find your formal wear. We'll be attending the opera tomorrow," Edelgard commanded, emptying the last contents of her water flask into her mouth and wishing it was filled with wine instead.

Perhaps then it would've been easier to stomach the thought of facing the hurt in Dorothea's eyes again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a while for me to be satisfied with this chapter, hence the much longer wait. Thanks for sticking in there and hope you all are enjoying everything so far! Reading all your feedback really keeps me going


	4. Chapter IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"But so be it! My fate  
henceforth I entrust to you;  
in tears before you,  
your protection I implore,  
I implore."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> screw consistent chapter lengths we die like men

Edelgard had always been fond of the opera. One of the few happy memories from her time in Enbarr had been of the night her uncle brought her to see the Divine Songstress in person. Edelgard could remember all of it: the pings of harp notes floating through the air, Manuela Casagranda gliding across the stage as if she were an angel, the chills that the orchestra accompaniment sent up the young princess's spine. 

After that performance, they had made their midnight escape to the Kingdom. Edelgard had understood so little at the time, and she had clung to the memory of her last night in Enbarr as if it were precious as gold. For years, the notes of Manuela's melody were the only echoes she had left of her homeland. Edelgard did not visit the opera again until many years later, and only then for Mittelfrank's grand re-opening following the war's end. Of course it would be Dorothea's voice, chanting words of passion and love and fate, that would stoke a fire in her she had not known before and send them past the point of no return.

Since then, Edelgard had admittedly lost count of the number of times she found herself in the gaudy creation that was the opera's Royal Box. The seating area had been designed for men and women who thought themselves larger than life, decorated beyond belief and adorned in the finest red and gold silks. Even the Emperor's chair was ridiculously extravagant, its plush velvet towering far above the tips of her own horned crown. The way the spectacle of a box loomed above the audience would have made one think that its occupants were practically gods.

It irritated Edelgard to no end. Were it not for the security the box provided her, she would have it razed in a heartbeat.

The Emperor was roused from her thoughts by the sound of her companion settling in the chair at her side. "The opera house is secure, Your Majesty."

"Thank you, Hubert," Edelgard murmured with a nod of recognition over her shoulder. She leaned over the edge of the balcony, her elbows catching on the ridges of worn oak. The seats below her were nearly full. Mittelfrank had done considerable promotion for the production, and by the excited chatter of the spectators below it was apparent that it had paid off. 

"It seems our dear Professor has lost her way," Hubert noted, his gaze drifting to the empty chair that sat to the Emperor's left.

As if on cue, the door to the box swung open with a heavy thud. Byleth arrived in a flurry of movements, flattening the ruffled dress she wore with all the grace of a drunken beast. She collapsed in her chair without even noticing the incredulous looks given by Edelgard and Hubert.

"Professor, what did you—"

Before Edelgard could even ask, the stage lights were lit and the overture began.

As expected, the opera was preposterous. Edelgard had seen many productions by Mittelfrank over the past year, but the grand chorus that accompanied the opening of the act was the first to make her blush. She supposed the fact that she could recognize the belting tones and lyrics from a song Dorothea had sung to her long ago did little to help her embarrassment.

The stage teemed with the life of their academy days for its first few numbers, Garreg Mach's signature uniforms flashing left and right as the performers sang of the coming revolution. All the key players danced about the stage, reenacting brief skits that only someone with intimate knowledge of the Black Eagles could create. Lindhardt's character could be found constantly sleeping during the classes that a woman much too wiry for Byleth's stature gave, while Caspar and Ferdinand butted heads over the proper duties of a noble. Edelgard couldn't resist a brief smile over her shoulder to Hubert when the actress playing Bernadetta promptly fainted on the spot after bumping into his character (she would have to tease him later for the secretly pleased expression she found across his face). A woman bearing Dorothea's signature cap even flitted across the stage for a song once or twice, though she obviously could never come close to replicating the real diva's voice.

Edelgard found her own character strangely absent for the entirety of of the first act. She could feel anticipation brewing in her chest, both for seeing Mittelfrank's portrayal of herself and for seeing Dorothea once again. In the second act, the music grew to a triumphant fanfare as the scene changed to Enbarr on the day of her coronation. Students were replaced with soldiers that crowded on the steps of the palace, all singing praises for the new ruler being crowned inside.

Then, the world around them seemed to stop as the chorus parted to reveal a grand figure cloaked in bright red.

Edelgard had seen Dorothea many times in many different roles, and yet she never tired of her beautiful form gracing the stage. If Manuela was the Divine Songstress, Dorothea was Sothis herself. Even now, her face barely recognizable under layers of makeup and the pearl-white wig adorning her head, she stole the Emperor's breath away.

Dorothea was dressed in what Edelgard assumed was a replication of her coronation attire, the first of many somber memories of the night. The double-headed eagle of her signature cape flashed as brightly as the ceremonial crown she wore, though neither could quite match the shine of authentic gold that the real pieces bore. Still, Dorothea looked more regal than Edelgard ever could as she strode to the top step and surveyed her stage.

The audience, as usual, was captivated. The air in the theater fell quiet, filled only with the soft arpeggios of a solitary piano. It seemed as if the whole room was holding a collective breath in anticipation. 

Dorothea began her aria soft, as she was fond of doing. Her initial verse was done almost entirely in a cappella, the powerful crescendos and thrilling vibrato all her own. Edelgard didn't know when she ended up closing her eyes, head tilting back and forth to the melody that began to take form. She only knew that she was lost in the sound of Dorothea's voice, so much so that the powerful orchestra chord that stuck at the refrain of the song nearly made her jump.

Even with the overpowering chorus behind her, Dorothea's voice was remarkable. The swell of its volume matched perfectly with the swell in Edelgard's chest on each note, and she found herself absolutely charmed (as if that was anything new). The Mystical Songstress captured hearts and swayed emotions so easily on the stage that it was almost magical, for lack of a better word. The entire hall came to its feet in applause as the song came to a grand conclusion with Dorothea on the top stair, axe held high.

"Your Majesty, is something the matter?" Hubert's voice was nothing more than a murmur near her ear, but it was enough to break her from her trance.

"No, nothing," Edelgard replied quickly, blinking hard to fight away the sting in her eyes. "I'm quite alright."

The third act was much harder to stomach, with the depiction of their battle on the Tailtean Plains striking deep. The rolling hill the heroes stood on bore little resemblance to the muddy and blood-stained field that Edelgard remembered. She even found herself clenching at the arm of her chair when Caspar's actor ended his powerful solo by plunging his axe deep into the side of a pale-haired bishop. The cheer from the crowd seemed just a little too loud.

Dorothea had warned her some time ago that the director had taken his liberties on the scene despite the songstress's suggestion, but it was another thing to see such exaggerations in person. Dimitri's death in particular left a sour taste in her mouth. She could hardly stand to see their final conversation cheapened to a single quip about the "Pitiful King of Delusion", even if she knew that his true last words had been used to damn her to the fires of eternity.

If that was what they wanted to believe, so be it. Perhaps things really were better that way, if only for the fact that her tears for his death had been omitted as well.

Fhirdiad finally made its appearance in the fourth act, and it wasn't until Dorothea's Edelgard and her Professor counterpart were face to face with a crazed-looking Seiros that Byleth finally spoke on the performance. "Ah, wait, that's supposed to be me? My arms don't look that thin in person, do they?"

Poor Hubert could do nothing but groan in response at their professor while Edelgard simply looked on.

The grand finale of the production took place around the corpse of the Immaculate One, much to the audience's merriment. The lyrics Dorothea had composed on the spot so many years ago echoed from the rafters in refrain as that damned mural was rolled across the stage. The songstress took her place in front of Edelgard's likeness, mimicking the pose as she delivered a powerful counter-melody to the chorus's voice. The Emperor felt equal parts anxiety and thrill at the sight before her, gut still twisting at the glorified image of herself but awestruck by Dorothea all the same.

The audience leaped to their feet as soon as the song came to a close, applause and whistles filling the air. Each of the main characters took their turn stepping forward to be recognized for the final bows, but the applause for Dorothea was absolutely deafening. Sweet smiles and mimed kisses were offered to all corners of the room in response. The cast joined hands to bow as a whole, giving thankful nods to their orchestra and their stage hands in turn.

Then, the men and women of the opera held their hands out to Royal Box in recognition. The audience's cheers rose to a wild roar for their true Emperor, but the only thing she could focus on in that moment was Dorothea's bright emerald gaze boring a hole straight through her own.

Edelgard felt her heart clench in her chest. She very much wished that she had brought that flask filled with wine to prepare her for what would follow.

* * *

Byleth slipped off during their trek from the Royal Box to the backstage areas of the opera house, citing something about a woman from her mercenary days being in audience and needing to catch up with. Hubert kept by Edelgard's side, ever her shadow as they made their way down the halls towards their destination. When they reached the prima donna's dressing room, the knight assigned to bodyguard duty gave a rigid bow at the waist to his Emperor. "She is expecting you, Your Majesty," he said. 

Edelgard nodded in return, finding her own movement almost as stiff as the knight's. She turned to Hubert and gave him a ghost of a smile. "I'll go alone from here on out," she declared, though her words didn't seem as firm as she hoped they would be.

Hubert nodded in understanding. "I wish you well, Your Majesty," he said before giving a bow of his own and leaving to take care of the other matters of the night.

The door suddenly seemed much too tall, and Edelgard ignored the sideways look that the knight gave in her direction when she took the handle in her grasp. She took in a deep breath, pulled her shoulders back, and stepped inside.

Byleth had truly outdone herself, and not in a good way. Immediately upon entering, Edelgard found herself choking on the smell of roses and kicking petals out of her way left and right. The songstress's dressing room was almost filled entirely with the plants, covering every flat surface in sight. Before Edelgard could curse her Professor's name aloud, the sound of a softly hummed tune cut through her thoughts.

Dorothea sat at her vanity, pulling her brunette locks free from where they had been pinned to fit under the pale wig discarded at her side. Edelgard immediately recognized the melody from her earlier aria and wondered if the songstress had even noticed her entry. Her answer came when Dorothea gave a dramatically heavy sigh to no one in particular.

"You know, when suitors send me more than four bouquets, it usually means they're trying to compensate for something," Dorothea said, using her free hand to sweep a pile of petals away from her mirror. Green flashed at the corner of her eyes when she cast a quick glance at her old friend. "I wonder what forty bouquets is supposed to mean, hm?"

"I apologize for any inconvenience I've caused. A friend of mine thought it was a good idea," Edelgard admitted, graciously choosing to spare Byleth the embarrassment for the time being. The songstress didn't even bother to face her, instead peering into her grand mirror to remove the remaining splotches of makeup on her face. Edelgard cleared her throat and dared to continue. "You sounded wonderful tonight, Dorothea."

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

Edelgard winced at the title, feeling the chill in the room as if it were the dead of winter. She could not let it deter her. "The production was very well done, but I came here tonight to—"

"I thought you said you were staying away from the opera," Dorothea interrupted. The Emperor stiffened, and she couldn't help but wonder if her words had been heard at all.

Edelgard tried her hardest not to let irritation creep into her voice. Such a tone would not do for the apology and request she was about to give. "Dorothea, I'm trying to—"

"You know I was an orphan, right?"

The change in subject startled Edelgard into silence for a moment. Her brow furrowed in confusion at Dorothea's back, the only thing she had seen of the songstress since first entering the room. "I do," she replied at last, choosing her words as carefully as she would with a foreign diplomat, "though I don't remember you saying much about your childhood."

"Yes, exactly. What is there to talk about?" Dorothea scoffed in a tone that sounded entirely too bitter to the Emperor's ears. "Those were the worst years of my life. Day in and day out, hoping and praying and pleading that I could find a crumb of a meal or a gutter to drink from. Spending my days getting kicked by impatient nobles and beaten by angry shopkeepers."

Dorothea plucked a single rose from the bouquet beside her and twirled the stem between her fingers. "My father left me alone. The city of Enbarr left me alone." The songstress turned, finally making direct eye contact with Edelgard. "And then I met you."

Edelgard felt a lump forming in her throat already, but Dorothea continued unfazed. "I met you, and I thought, 'Dorothea, this isn't the man you've been looking for.' You were nowhere close, and it took me the longest time to realize that was what was so wonderful about you. Every one of those boys that I was with at the academy faded away with time. All the men that pursued me after never saw me beyond my looks or my fame. So many suitors, so many failed opportunities, and the person who would truly care for me was right in front of me the whole time.

"You stayed with me through the war. You told me that you loved me. You told me that you wanted me by your side. You told me all of that and that little orphan who had been so, so afraid for so long that it was her destiny to be abandoned and thrown away was happy.

"And then, Edelgard? _You _left me. Alone. Just like everyone else." The hurt that filled Dorothea's gaze was too much, and Edelgard suddenly could not dare to look at her anymore. Silence hung in the air. 

"Do you have any idea what that feels like?"

_I do,_ Edelgard thought, but she dare not interrupt.

"Do you know how much it hurt to see you disappear through that door—"

_I do._

"—and not be able to do a single thing about it?"

_I do._

"Did I really mean that little to you? Just a pretty face to throw away at the end of it all?"

Edelgard could do nothing but hang her head, eyes trained on the floorboards of the songstress's dressing room. She knew the ache of being left behind all too well, and it pained her to think that she had made Dorothea feel the same. It had been so easy before, leaving before anyone could get too close, finding the distance needed to keep both those that she cared for and the wall around her heart in one piece.

Dorothea was not easy. Dorothea was difficult. She was not a sworn vassal the Edelgard could keep at arms length or a long-lost friend she could force herself to forget. She was more than that, so much more. She was someone the Emperor had loved more than anyone in a very long time, and she was a woman who was just starting to heal and laugh and love again herself. Edelgard had trampled it all, and she almost hated herself for it. 

When she raised her gaze to meet Dorothea's own, the tears there made her immediately wished that she hadn't. "Edelgard...why?" It was barely a whisper, but her voice pierced the Emperor's heart all the same. 

For a good moment or two, Edelgard couldn't even bring herself to respond. Again, she found herself caught between her desire to confide in Dorothea and ever present barriers she had built to keep her past at bay. She wanted to say something. She _needed _to say something. A million thoughts came to mind, but none could quite reach her lips.

"Could we go to your room?" she finally asked, surprised at the break of her own voice. 

Dorothea regarded her with a gaze on the brink of tears, but filled with hurt and anger all the same. She took a moment to steady the storm of emotion brewing in her eyes before speaking again. "Why?"

"I want to explain myself. In full." Edelgard said, struggling to keep the songstress's gaze. "Please, Dorothea."

Dorothea pursed her lips, but her brow furrowed ever so slightly in concern over the plea that the Emperor was so very rare to surrender. 

"Go on ahead," she conceded at last, turning her back to Edelgard once more. "I'll meet you upstairs after I change."

* * *

Nervous beyond all belief was a phrase far too tame to describe Edelgard as she waited for Dorothea. 

It all felt foolish; the way her hands shook, how her shoulders felt as if they would snap under the tension there, her pacing back and forth. She knew that there was nothing to fear, especially not from her friend and lover, but her every sense screamed otherwise. 

When the door opened, Edelgard's hand went immediately to the ceremonial sword that rested at her hip. She caught herself before the draw and quickly straightened, trying her best to appear unfazed despite the deafening sound of her heart thudding in her chest.

Dorothea stepped into the room as Edelgard knew her best, her face clear of the powder and makeup and her brown locks falling freely about her shoulders. The emerald gaze she had come to fear locked on her for only a moment before the songstress made her way over to the bed, collapsing on top of it.

"I'm your captive audience, Emperor," Dorothea said simply, gesturing to the empty space beside her.

Edelgard nodded, shrugging the scarlet coat she wore from her shoulders and discarding the piece over a nearby chair before sitting down. "Before I explain myself, I need to tell you that I'm sorry,” she began. Edelgard would be remiss to not to give her as much before talking about herself at such length. "I can't apologize to you enough for leaving when you needed me, Dorothea. Nothing I am about to say will change that it was a mistake I should not have made."

Dorothea simply blinked, her expression near unreadable as she waited for more. Edelgard supposed that was all she would merit for the time being.

The Emperor clasped her hands together to steady them, speaking in as level a tone as she could muster. "The man who attacked you was sent by my uncle. Lord Arundel is the leader of the group that we are currently trying to exterminate, and he saw you as a weakness of mine that he could take advantage of." Explaining the situation was easy enough. Explaining the context was much harder. "Unfortunately, he and I have a rather dark history with each other."

Edelgard could have sworn she saw the slightest frown from Dorothea out of the corner of her eye, but she continued none the less. "The history books record that my siblings, all ten of them, died of disease. Many people have seen through that lie, but the truth is more gruesome than they would imagine." She shifted nervously, searching desperately for the right words to continue. "I haven't—" Edelgard paused, frustrated with herself for her sudden indecision. She could not falter this time. She would press on. "I've never told anyone all of this. Please bear with me."

"Of course," came Dorothea's soft reply. Edelgard thought herself undeserving of the tone, but was thankful for the tiniest bit of relief that came to the tightness of her shoulders.

She would start with her gloves, peeling back the black leather from her skin as she began her tale. "Wilhelm was the oldest heir, my father's pride and joy. They named him after the first Emperor of Adrestia himself. I remember him being strong and kind, with a talent for swordplay."

Her second glove fell to the floor, and it took a concentrated effort to suppress the tremble she felt in her bare hands. "Freya was the same age as Wilhelm and a child of our father's political marriage. She matched Wilhelm in nearly every way, from the same gray eyes of Father to her prowess as a warrior. The only thing that could separate them was a few months difference and her lack of a crest." 

A pause. Edelgard couldn't remember the last time she spoke the names of her siblings aloud. Taking the time to remember the little details about them was difficult, but now that she had begun she would be loathe to stop and forget them entirely. "Liane, Alfons, and Gerhard shared a mother with Freya, and they were inseparable. Liane was always leading the other two into some sort of trouble, but Alfons and Gerhard were always happy to follow."

Edelgard laid her palms on her knees, baring the raised whip marks across the back of her hands for Dorothea to see. The songstress knew her intimately, but had never truly seen the ugly canvas of scars across her body in the light. Every mark and blemish was distinct enough to carefully put the pieces of Edelgard's past into place, and she had never planned on revealing as much to Dorothea. Falling for the songstress hadn't been planned in the start of their wanton relationship, either, yet here she was revealing the parts of her she had tried so hard to bury.

"Hildegard was Wilhelm's full sister. She was born about sixth months ahead of me, but she always acted as if she were six years my senior." The tiniest hint of smile made its way to Edelgard’s face at the thought of her favorite sibling. "Hildegard made a point to take care of us youngest three, though. She always said that we were 'half-heirs' because of our mothers, and that half-heirs had to stick together to make it in the noble world."

Next came rolling up the sleeves of her blouse, revealing the rings of permanent discoloration around each wrist. "When my uncle and I returned from the Kingdom, his men imprisoned all eleven of us in dungeons beneath the palace. They chained our hands and feet so we could not run. The shackles were so tight that our skin would chafe and bleed when we struggled. We were too far underground to be heard when we screamed."

Edelgard wouldn't dare look up at Dorothea, but she knew the songstress was listening intently. The Emperor tugged her sleeves up to her elbows to show the scars running above her veins, ugly and inflamed skin from where beast blood had seared through them. "They told us little about what they did to us. We didn't even know what we had done to deserve it all, or why our father had forsaken us. We only knew that every few hours the men in crow masks would drag one of us away to poke and prod and inject, and that it all felt like we were dying."

Terror rose in her chest and Edelgard screwed her eyes shut. The hardest part was upon her, but she could not falter. "My younger brother, Otto, succumbed to the treatment early on. Hildegard led us in a prayer the night he died. I wept for him at first, but as the months dragged on I started to instead envy his quick exit.

"Wilhelm just...stopped moving. He was paralyzed for an entire month before they eventually stopped taking the time to feed him by hand. The strongest out of all of us wasted away until he finally died.

"Liane, Alfons, Gerhard, and Hildegard all fell to disease. My uncle told me later they weren't worth their time and effort if they didn't even have a crest in the first place.

"Therese, the youngest of us all, never made it to her sixth birthday before she went completely mad. Sometimes I can hear her babbling in my dreams, and I think that she's still curled up beside me in our cell. Then I wake up and remember we never saw her again after the prime minister had his guards haul her away.

"Freya hung on with me for a long while. She was the last to go." Edelgard felt much too small as she brought her trembling hands to the buttons of her shirt. "Her final words to me were an apology that she couldn't keep us safe, but a promise that Father would come. 'Father wouldn't leave his favorite daughters alone to die,' she insisted. She was so sure that he would save us that his name was the last that ever left her lips."

The thought of baring the scar on her chest in full brought her story to a screeching halt. Edelgard could barely grasp at the knot of her cravat, and her every instinct screamed at her to flee. It was by far the ugliest feature she had, an unnaturally straight mark from where the scalpel had pierced her skin to reach her heart. They had sewed it up quite neatly following the surgical graft, but their efforts had done little to prevent the black and blue stains that permanently pooled around the wound to accentuate the horrifying sight. 

She was so focused on her actions that she barely registered Dorothea's fingers brushing over her own, at least not until their warmth reached her. The reassurance helped Edelgard steel herself, if only for long enough to untie her cravat and unbutton her shirt. She shrugged away the garment slowly to reveal the final pieces of her sad little puzzle: the bruised leftovers of the last surgery on her chest and the lash marks across her lower back. Both were painful remnants of what had been a fourteen-year-old Edelgard's very first attempts at resistance.

"I spent an entire year underneath Enbarr, watching as my siblings died and went mad around me. But my uncle and the prime minister got what they wanted." Edelgard extended her hand and the shimmering Crest of Flames appeared in her palm, its dull glow making the marks on her body all the more visible. "I went into those dungeons as a mistresses's child and came out their Imperial puppet. Flame Emperor, they called me. The one who would burn the gods."

She clenched her fist so hard that her fingernails bit into her palms, banishing the Crest back to the darkness. "My uncle and his men have been at my back ever since. Whenever I've defied them, whenever I've shown them weakness, they've nipped at my heels to put me back in step. That's why you were attacked. That's why I left."

It took a conscious effort to keep her breathing from running away from her entirely at the visions of the woman she loved, bleeding and slumped against the wall alongside the bodies of her siblings. "I was scared, Dorothea," Edelgard admitted at last, and it felt as if the whole world could hear her. "I lost everyone I've ever loved. I couldn't..." She trailed off, wiping at her eyes and cursing herself for being so unsettled. "I couldn't lose you, too."

Dorothea said nothing, but the look on her face said volumes. Edelgard couldn't keep the words from tumbling out under her softened gaze.

"I don't tell you any of this so that you will pity me, or even so you will forgive me. I'm just..." Edelgard lowered her head into her palm in defeat. Shoulders hunched, limbs trembling once more, she felt further from being the ruler of all Fódlan than she had in a long time. "I don't want to hide this part of me anymore. I'm tired of running from this, and I can't run from you." 

It seemed a good moment or two was needed to let the dust settle on the storm that was Edelgard’s admission. Dorothea finally leaned closer, her movements slow and calculated a she went. “May I?” Her request was so soft Edelgard had thought she was imagining it until she saw the hand hovering over her chest. 

The Emperor nodded her approval, slow and weary. Gentle fingers came to rest over the scar there, an unexpectedly welcome warmth over the chilled skin. 

"Thank you, Edie. I know this is hard for you.” The songstress’s voice was barely a whisper, as if she was afraid any more would startle Edelgard away. Such a fear was certainly not unwarranted. Edelgard would be lying if she said she hadn't already thought about bolting from the room at least three or four times during the course of their conversation.

"I know it's even harder for you to accept what I'm about to say, but..." Dorothea paused, pursing her lips in thought. She brought her finger underneath Edelgard’s chin, raising her head once more so that their gazes could meet. "It's not a sin for you to be happy. You've done so much for so many people, me especially. You try to carry everything and everyone on your shoulders, but you never seem to stop to think about yourself. You _deserve_ to be happy, Edelgard."

The Emperor's chest felt much too tight. A part of her wanted to deny it, to tell Dorothea that it was wrong for her to live her life freely when her entire family lay dead in its wake. The other part of her was finally realizing that the first existed, and knew then that the words Dorothea spoke rung true.

"For what it's worth, I think what you did was rash. But I understand why you did it, and I don't want you to make that sacrifice again." Dorothea reached to cup her lover's cheek in her palm, her expression more determined than ever. "I won't leave you, Edelgard. You won't lose me."

In a moment of raw emotion that she couldn’t quite decipher quick enough, Edelgard surged forward to catch the songstress's lips against her own. At Dorothea's soft gasp, the Emperor startled herself and immediately pulled away. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to—"

Dorothea silenced her quickly in a searing kiss, fingers curling around the back of her neck to bring her closer. Edelgard quickly obliged and fell into her embrace in relief. She was still here. Ugly past revealed, uglier scars bared, and Dorothea was still by her side. 

Dorothea slid her hands down the Emperor's shoulders, running her thumbs across the branching scars of her biceps as she went. Edelgard shivered at the intimate touch. They had been with each other many times before, and none of what they were doing was particularly new. But the newfound attention at her old wounds was something different entirely. 

It felt good, to acknowledge them. To just let them be instead of pretending they were some forbidden part of her. It was a solace.

Edelgard tugged at the collar of Dorothea's blouse, pulling the songstress with her as she laid back on the bed. Dorothea chased her kiss as they went to find herself straddled atop the Emperor.

It was hard to forget how empathetic Dorothea could be, but it never failed to surprise Edelgard how attuned with the Emperor's own emotions she was. Even then, with the songstress looming over her in what would normally be the start of a charged night between the two, she could feel that it was all distinctly different. The way that Dorothea ran her fingers across Edelgard's cheek, her other hand tracing across the jagged scars of her forearms was a welcome contrast to terror and hurt that had wracked her chest just moments before.

Nothing could chase away what had been done to her, but Dorothea could always remind her what was just beyond the horizon. Edelgard pulled her close again at the thought, kissing her in slower, languid motions.

"I love you," the songstress sighed against her lips.

Dorothea froze at her own words, and Edelgard soon followed. 

Edelgard stared dumbly at the woman above her. "Did...did you just...?"

For all the thought, all the conflict, all the dread that had accompanied those three words, there they were again in a breathless admission. She almost couldn't believe it.

"Yes," Dorothea confirmed. The elated laughter that tumbled from her lips became the second most beautiful thing to ever grace the Emperor's ears behind that wonderful phrase. "I love you, Edelgard von Hresvelg. Now, never leave me again."

Edelgard let out a startled chuckle of her own, grabbing at Dorothea's nightshirt to bring her closer once more. The songstress trailed kisses from her shoulder to her neck with a tenderness they rarely used with each other. Edelgard didn't even realize she was crying until Dorothea pulled away abruptly, a horrified look crossing her face. "Edie? Should I stop?"

"No, no, I just—" Edelgard's words dissolved into laughter as she frantically wiped at her eyes. "I'm sorry, Dorothea. I don't know what's gotten into me."

"Your apologies are over for the night, you sap," the songstress teased, bringing her forehead to rest gently against her lover's. "I told you to let yourself be happy."

Despite the tears that streaked her face, Edelgard couldn't help but smile. With Dorothea at her side, perhaps she finally could.

With Dorothea at her side...

...

...she had forgotten something, hadn't she?

Edelgard jumped with realization, her head nearly colliding with the songstress's own as she raised up onto her elbows. "Dorothea, come live with me," she blurted out. Edelgard hadn't meant for it to escape her lips like an Imperial order, but the tone of her words seemed to fall by the wayside as Dorothea's eyebrows raised in the first genuinely shocked expression she had given that entire night.

"What?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for another patient wait, everyone! Really wanted to get this one right as it's definitely one of the more important chapters of the work. I love reading all of your comments while I write (especially since some of you seem to have an uncanny talent for guessing my thought processes and characterizations in advance), and I'll try to reply to more of them in the coming week!


	5. Chapter V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"At the mere mention of love, of delight,_   
_I become disturbed, my heartbeat changes,_   
_I try to speak of love_   
_I feel a desire which I cannot explain."_

"I’m sorry, Your Majesty. You ask for more than we can give."

Edelgard was careful to keep her clenched fist underneath the war table at the phrase she was certain she had head at least a hundred times before. As much as they pushed against her, she would not relent.

Ferdinand had finally completed his trip as an envoy to Brigid, and with his return Adrestia's golden trio was back at full force. She always felt stronger with Hubert and Ferdinand at her sides. It would be easy to say it was because they added an extra twelve feet of intimidation to her smaller form, but it was much more than just that. For as much as Ferdinand and Hubert bickered like an old married couple, the two were without compare when it came to political prowess. Edelgard did not think herself incompetent in the field at all, but she often felt she paled in comparison to their tandem efforts in negotiation and legislation alike. They were certainly unparalleled. She valued their knowledge and expertise beyond belief, and somehow even all that seemed for naught when faced with the two stubborn nobles before them.

The lords of Masson and Grandis, small harbor cities on the western coast of Faerghus, stared back at the trio from across the table. The two were unfortunate archetypes of nobility: one so old and frail he could hardly stand and the other so full of himself and his looks that he could hardly help him.

“We are offering to give you considerable compensation to send workers to the reconstruction efforts in Fhirdiad," Edelgard repeated, as the fact had apparently not gotten through to their addled brains in the first place. "I am well aware that your territories were largely spared during the war. Surely you'd lend your resources to those who weren't as fortunate?"

The younger lord of Grandis crossed his arms, already radiating defiance before even speaking. Lord Clausen had by far been the more contrarian of the two, meeting both Ferdinand's promises of payment and Hubert's insinuations of retaliation with what was beginning to become outright mulish dissent. Lord Rainer of Masson seemed lesser than a footman with his utter lack of words in comparison. "Spared from outright destruction, yes. But our people had friends and family in Fhirdiad when it burned. They are still recovering from a heavy emotional toll," Lord Clausen huffed.

"I am not asking you to send your entire country, just some capable men and women for the cause." Edelgard laid her hand on the table to drum her fingers there, a visible sign of her impatience and an easy way to vent her frustration all the same. She was their last line of defense when the talk from Ferdinand and Hubert alike failed, and if even she could not sway the nobles then something was horribly amiss. "If your people have ties to Fhirdiad as you suggest, I presume that many would be up to the challenge."

"You presume too much, Your Majesty." Just when Edelgard thought her irritation had reached its peak, the elder Lord Rainer cut in with a tone that was startlingly sharp compared to his silence through the rest of the conversation.

Edelgard barely contained the click of her tongue at the comment. She could bring herself to be civil no longer. "That may very well be the case, since an hour ago when we all sat down I also presumed that two men who were graciously allowed to keep their positions would be more inclined to bargain.”

"We do not 'bargain' over the livelihoods of our people," Lord Clausen replied, as if it was a simple fact.

Edelgard was sure she could hear her blood pounding through her head, a headache rising behind her eyes at the childish back and forth. "As we speak, the people of the Kingdom suffer in the ashes. I do not have the time to quarrel with you over sending relief to your very homeland’s capitol."

Lord Clausen scoffed, very much indignant and very much _loud_. "Well perhaps if you spent less time with your precious concubine you'd have more to spare for Fhirdiad, Your Majesty."

Edelgard stiffened, and where frustration had run hot only moments before a colder, deeper fury took hold. "You would do well to watch your tongue."

The chill radiating from Hubert beside her matched the Emperor’s demeanor and more. His smile was all smirk and no teeth as he steepled his hands together, taking control of the situation before Edelgard could say something she would regret. "My, my, your lordships. It seems that you're insistent on outstaying your welcome." He chuckled under his breath, but humor was strikingly absent from his tone.

Ferdinand's own laugh was nervous as he glanced between the furious pair with wary eyes. "Perhaps we should continue this another time, friends. We are all very heated at the moment."

"I think you’ve hit the nail on the head, Duke Aegir." Lord Clausen stood, brushing off his cloak as if just spending the last half hour in their presence had left him absolutely filthy.

Ferdinand nodded at them with a friendly smile, though anyone that knew him well enough could see past the thin veil to the irritation he held beneath. "Allow me to see you all back to your carriages, gentleman," he offered, standing and making his way to the other side of the table.

Though Lord Rainer was very obviously was ready to collapse at any moment, it seemed the thought of having to accept an Adrestian’s help spurred him to rise at last. If Edelgard listened close enough, she could swear she heard his brittle bones crack with each movement. Pathetic. "That’s quite alright. We’ll see ourselves out," was his curt reply as he shuffled after his younger counterpart.

The door slammed and Edelgard immediately stood, kicking at her chair in anger. A heavy silence fell across the trio, broken only by the soft curses she gave under her breath.

"That was...rude," Ferdinand said at last.

Hubert scoffed at the understatement. "Unbelievably so. And here I thought that the old guard of Adrestia would be our biggest hurdle in rebuilding the Kingdom." He flipped through the papers before him absentmindedly, and Edelgard suspected he was already brainstorming ways to take care of the newest obstacles that had just made themselves known.

"How difficult is it to simply send a hundred workers?" Edelgard seethed as she rubbed at her temples. The headache there had grown in a matter of minutes, radiating and churning underneath her horned crown like some sort of poetic omen.

"Pay them no mind, Edelgard." Ferdinand seemed intent to have a positive outlook on the situation, even as he rounded the table to fix the chairs the lords had not even bothered to return to their proper places. "I can meet with them again later tonight for dinner. Perhaps they will be more amiable over a catered meal."

"They don't need to be amiable, they need to be obedient," Hubert murmured. "It's remarkable that they would travel all the way here only to refuse our request in person."

Edelgard grabbed at the bridge of her nose, scrunching her eyes shut in an effort to ward off the pain blossoming there. "It’s my uncle." Edelgard was no fool. She knew rumors would spread far and wide upon a certain songstress's arrival to the palace. This was distinctly different. It had barely been two weeks since she had brought Dorothea to her side. As fascinated as Enbarr was with secrets, rumors did not simply spread hundreds of miles to Grandis and Masson without a willing messenger. "I don't know how, but he must have gotten wind of the spy we intended to send with their men. He's trying to discredit me."

"Perhaps we can find another way into Fhirdiad, then. One that Lord Volkhard will have less sway over." Ferdinand laid a hand on his friend's shoulder, giving a squeeze of reassurance. The duke was no fool either, though, and when it became apparent she would not be calmed by his touch and words alone, he settled for a friendly pat and made his way to the door. "I suppose I will catch Lord Clausen and Lord Rainer before they leave, at least."

Edelgard practically boiled with frustration. The fact that they even had to put effort into finding such workarounds was infuriating alone. She knew that her uncle was poking and prodding, testing her bounds and trying to force her into a decision that she would regret one way or the other. 

Edelgard was through being poked and prodded. She was through with being used. She'd be damned if she let him hurt her country or the woman she loved any further.

"Ferdinand?" Edelgard called.

The duke in question casted a glance over his shoulder. "Yes?"

Edelgard tucked her chair underneath the war table, glancing to Hubert briefly and becoming quite pleased with herself when she saw a similar sentiment in his eye. Though certainly did not wish to make threats and force habit in their negotiations, she refused to let two measly fishing town lords stand in the way of the Emperor of Fódlan. "Let our good friends know before they leave Enbarr that they _will_ be able to provide the workers we requested, or I will have them removed and find someone who can."

A wry smile crossed Hubert's face, though the designated messenger didn't seem nearly as happy. Ferdinand sighed and gave a helpless shrug of his shoulders. "If that is what you wish, my friend."

* * *

The long trek back to her room did nothing to ease her irritation, and the Emperor found herself slamming the door shut much more violently than she had intended.

Dorothea's head raised from the other side of the couch in the far corner of Edelgard's chambers at the harsh sound. Her hair sat in an endearingly unkempt bun at the back of her head, all makeup cleaned from her face and yet she still looked radiant in the firelight. "There she is, my beloved Emperor." Of course she would smile, unfazed by the irritable display.

Edelgard heaved a sigh at the title, collapsing into the chair at her desk. "Hearing you call me that makes me almost feel as if I've accomplished something today," she murmured, shrugging off her jacket and setting in on the laces of her boots next.

Dorothea crossed her arms on the back of the couch as her gaze swept across the Emperor's every move. "I'd call you that a thousand times more if you'd only stay in bed a little longer in the mornings."

"If only," Edelgard repeated, kicking her boots to the foot of her bed as she stood and made her way across the room. She leaned over the couch to take one of Dorothea’s hands in her own, pressing a gentle kiss against her palm in greeting. "How long have you been waiting in here?"

“Not long. I took Roz out for a ride after my rehearsal." Dorothea took the opportunity to cup Edelgard's cheek in her hand, running her thumb across her temple with careful strokes. The Emperor felt her eyes flutter shut at the gentle touch. "The knight you gave me is a piss poor rider, I hope you know. I almost left him in the dust the fourth time he asked me to slow down.”

Edelgard smiled at the image of Dorothea, skirts and all, charging ahead of her best knight. She supposed that she should have warned him of Dorothea's riding experience during the war. Then again, she supposed that his surprise quite completed the pretty picture. "I think that's more a testament to your riding skill than his."

Dorothea shrugged. "Perhaps." When her lover fell silent before her, a crease of worry found the songstress's brow. "Is something the matter?"

Edelgard paused, opened her eyes once more to meet the worried emerald gaze. She found it strange how a question so simple caught in her throat, but she would be remiss not ask it. "How are you?"

Dorothea smiled sweetly. "I’m fine."

She beamed as if all the world was aligned, but Edelgard knew better. Though it was nothing short of wonderful to have Dorothea at her side, there to greet her at the end of the day and curl up next to her in the cold and early hours of the morning, she still couldn't chase off the feeling that she was caging the songstress. Dorothea was under heavy surveillance, the knight still at her side for all she did throughout her daily routine. They had been thankfully able to arrange for regular trips back and forth to Mittelfrank, and despite it all Dorothea found the time to continue her role in _Lady of Hresvelg_. 

Still, Edelgard felt more and more like a jailer by the day. 

Dorothea clued in on the conflict in her gaze far too easily, and offered a quick distraction. She took Edelgard's hand in a gentle grasp, pulling her closer so that she could work gently to undo the ties of her crown. "Tell me about your day, Edie. Let's relax for a bit." 

"I don’t need to relax." Edelgard felt the barbs creep into her voice despite her best efforts to keep a level head. She knew it was hardly fair to take her frustrations out on Dorothea in the wake of all she had put her through over the past month. Still, it was hard not to let her conversation with the lords of Grandis and Masson weigh heavy on her shoulders.

The songstress cocked a brow, and it was apparent the reply through gritted teeth had done little to help Edelgard's case. "Odd, because for someone who doesn’t need to relax you certainly look like you’re about to snap in two."

"I’d rather not talk about it at the moment," Edelgard corrected, the edges of her tone smoothing as she met the emerald gaze she knew all too well.

"Well, if you’d rather not talk, that can be arranged, too." Dorothea came in close, her lips brushing Edelgard's in the chastest of kisses. Edelgard felt herself melt against the affectionate touch and the Emperor leaned down further, humming softly at the hand Dorothea carefully cupped at the back of her neck.

And they kissed, for once in their lives slow and unhurried, easy and earnest. 

Breaking apart for air was harder than Edelgard could have ever imagined. Dorothea was the first to pull away, taking the Emperor's crown with her and placing it carefully in her lap. The feeling of her own hair falling around her shoulders was a relief in a number of ways, but Edelgard could barely focus on that with a woman straight out of a classical painting staring back at her.

Dorothea, lovely as ever. It took little thought for Edelgard to close the space between them again.

"Is it safe to at least assume you're rather stressed at the moment?" Dorothea managed to slip in the question the moment before they met in another eager kiss.

"It is," Edelgard murmured against her lips.

"Petra's convoy and Caspar's troupe are arriving later tonight, correct?" Dorothea continued to thoroughly impress by fitting her words in the space between the two of them, growing less and less at a pace achingly and beautifully slow.

Edelgard found herself almost breathless in contrast. She couldn’t seem to think beyond stilted phrases between the way Dorothea pressed against her and the way the songstress's fingers found their way into her hair. "Correct."

"Perhaps we should get together. Have a feast for old time’s sake."

"Perhaps."

Dorothea laughed at the repetition, the sound like the most beautiful piece of music that Edelgard had ever heard compared to the droning on of politicians she had been forced to sit through earlier. "Is the mighty eagle a parrot now?" She pulled away, only just far enough to gaze upon the mess she’d made of the Emperor within minutes.

"Only if you're my songbird." The reply came easier than expected, and Edelgard felt her lip quirk up at one side in pride at her own elegant counter.

Words fell by the wayside as they stilled, caught in each other’s gaze, and the world around them seemed to fall away next. Dorothea gently tucked an errant strand of hair behind the Emperor’s ear, and a shudder ran down Edelgard’s spine as fingertips splayed against her neck.

A warmth spread through her there, dulling the pain that had stabbed at her head and all of her senses at once. Edelgard wasn't quite sure when exactly her eyes fell shut of their own accord, or when she found herself leaning into her lover's arms. Dorothea's touch was unlike any other, something foreign but welcome all the same.

No, she _had_ felt this before. Certainly not in such cozy circumstances, but she suddenly realized she knew the feeling quite well. “White magic?” She opened her eyes as she spoke, meeting a surprised songstress's gaze.

Dorothea lifted her hand and the chilly air of the room fell across Edelgard’s skin once more. "Oh! Sorry, Edie." She chuckled, nervous and breathy. "I’ve been thinking of how that would feel for a while. I didn’t— I, ah, I’m afraid I got a bit excited there."

"Don't apologize." The reply was immediate. Edelgard gave a laugh of her own, taking Dorothea's hand and intertwining their fingers. "You just cured me of the headache I've had all morning. A miracle, considering what I've had to put up with."

Dorothea smiled so sweetly, squeezed the Emperor's hand so gently, Edelgard thought her heart might beat out of her chest. "You flatter me, Edie."

"Please," Edelgard said, raising the songstress’s fingers to press against her neck once more, "continue."

With her free hand, Dorothea carefully pulled apart the first button of Edelgard’s undershirt. The second. The third. She raised to her knees, leaning over the back of the couch and running her hand across the crook of Edelgard’s neck. Every muscle that had once run taut there went slack, and tension she hadn’t known she had been carrying in her shoulders dissipated in a matter of seconds. A sigh fell from Edelgard’s lips, unbidden, and the songstress dared to brush her palm across her lover's collarbone. Fingers slipped beneath the open edge of her shirt, and Edelgard thought she might wash away entirely from the warmth that bloomed there.

Three heavy pounds on the door brought them back to reality all too quickly. Dorothea snatched her hand away, and with it went the Emperor’s only hope of peace for the time being. 

Edelgard paused to collect herself in the midst of the frustration that burned in her chest, almost certain that she would end up killing someone if one more interruption or insult marred her day. "I told you all that I do not wish to be bothered at this hour," she called to their unexpected visitor.

"You may have told your servants as much, but I am no servant." The voice on the other side of the door came through much too loudly and haughtily for Edelgard's current patience level. "It is I, Ferdinand von Aegir."

Edelgard couldn’t help the groan of frustration that left her lips at her friend’s imitation of his younger self. The process of untangling herself from Dorothea was as difficult physically as it was mentally, and she paused to hastily button her undershirt before making her way to the door.

Edelgard opened it to glare at the noble on the other side. As expected, he merely beamed back at her.

"Come hunt with me," Ferdinand said.

Edelgard bit her lip, glancing down and cursing herself for the fact that she had her buttons done completely wrong. "Ferdinand, now is not the best time."

The duke was quick to place his riding boot in the open space between the door and its frame as Edelgard tried her best to shut him out. "I will not take no for an answer. If you continue to deny me, I will break down this door and drag the both of you out—"

"Halt, Ferdinand!" Edelgard felt herself flush immediately at the fact he had so quickly guessed that Dorothea was inside. Though Ferdinand was one of the few people she trusted with the full extent of her relationship with the songstress, she had at least hoped to keep up proper appearances for the time being. Ferdinand knowing at a single glance that Dorothea was in Edelgard's chambers and not down the hall in the guest room was embarrassing ten times over. "I'll change and meet you in the stables as soon as I'm ready, just—" Edelgard pinched at the bridge of her nose once more, praying that her headache wouldn't make an unwelcome return. "_Please_ don't come in right now."

Ferdinand paused for a moment, seemingly not convinced, but at last it seemed her consent was passable. He pulled his foot from the door and crossed his arms, willing to take the half-hearted reply as a victory for the time being. "Very well, then. I will give you some time to gather your clothing from wherever it may be and we will set out at once."

Edelgard closed the door in his face without a word, and Dorothea just laughed.

* * *

Edelgard found a strange solace in the hunt. When she had first learned about the trade in her younger years, she had thought it a vain hobby more about status than sport. It was a helpful tool in negotiations, nothing more and nothing less.

Ferdinand, oddly enough, had been the one to convince her otherwise. With the war's end had come more free time than Edelgard had known what to do with, and throwing herself into the conflict against her uncle could only occupy so much of it. She had laughed at Ferdinand's suggestion that going on hunts would clear her mind. He had proved her wrong the first time they had torn down wooded trails at speeds she had not known since the war, the thrill of rushing through the forest on horseback no longer accompanied by the fear of being chased by the enemy. Edelgard hadn't turned down any of his invitations since.

Karolus, her speckled hound, was the first to meet her in the stables. The animal was a gift from Ferdinand himself following their first hunt together as friends, born of a litter that he touted as "the finest examples of Aegir Hounds yet". She supposed she couldn't argue, considering the fact that Karolus was no older than a year but fiercely loyal none the less. He was their hunting dog in training, far too young to know much more than how to chase a rabbit or a fox for hours on end but enthusiastic all the same.

Edelgard knelt on the stable floor, greeting her companion with a friendly scratch behind the ear. Karolus almost seemed to grin back at her, his entire body bobbing back and forth with the motion of a wagging tail.

"Someone seems excited today.” A sharp yip of agreement was her reply. Edelgard couldn’t help but smile as the hound leaned into her, seeming quite pleased with himself by the way he nudged his snout underneath her palm to demand more attention.

Ferdinand's head appeared from a stall on the other side of the stable at the sound of her voice. "He has been a bit spoiled. One of the grooms told me our esteemed opera star snuck him out to the gardens to play this morning."

For all the turmoil in her chest, the image of Dorothea, running about with Karolus in the early hours of the day, still brought a flush to her cheeks. Was there a person or animal in all Fódlan that Dorothea Arnault _couldn’t_ charm?

Karolus's unbridled enthusiasm merited a few more moments of petting before Edelgard stood and brushed the dirt from her riding breeches. Ferdinand presented her the reins to her steed, already saddled and ready to go, and Edelgard figured she would have to forgive him for his earlier interruption. She offered a smile as she took the reins from him, hoisting herself up onto her black mare in a fluid and practiced motion.

The stable attendants had been dismissed for the day, likely Ferdinand's doing. The duke opened the stable doors himself before mounting his own horse. Edelgard drew up beside him on her steed, Karolus took his spot a few lengths ahead of his owner, and the hunting party set out without even having to say a word.

They remained at a slow and steady trot for a long while, following winding trails that lead through the vast expanse of land belonging to the Hresvelg name. The smell of earth permeated the air from the rain that had fallen earlier in the afternoon, and the canopy of leaves overhead made sure to thoroughly douse the thick jacket that Edelgard wore every time the wind shook them.

For all his earlier enthusiasm, Ferdinand was oddly silent for most the ride. On any given day, it would have been impossible to keep his mouth shut. There was always much to talk about with Ferdinand, be it gossip of the odd nobles he met on his travels or something he and Hubert had bickered about over the past few days. His silence bothered her, and the tension that grew in her chest was near unbearable.

They were half-way through their usual hunting route before she could bear it no longer. "I don't know what I'm doing, Ferdinand," she breathed at last, and the admission was a relief and a pain all at once. Edelgard hated to appear weak before her friend, and yet ever since she had brought Dorothea to the palace she had never felt weaker. She was vulnerable, and she could not longer wall off her heart to her enemies when part of it now laid in the hands of a songstress.

Ferdinand slowed his steed so he could walk beside her on the trail, giving a thoughtful nod. "Why do you think I brought you out here?"

"To try and best me at riding, as usual."

The accusation brought back his signature grin all too quickly. "Not quite, though you know I love the challenge." He paused for a moment, choosing his next words carefully. "You do not have to pretend to know all the answers, at least in this regard. We are all navigating very new territories in a number of ways, and I think it is safe to say that your relationship with Dorothea is one of them."

"I never wanted her caught up in all these ridiculous politics." Edelgard's head still held a residual ache from the back and forth of the earlier confrontation, and she could feel her fingers clench around her reins as Lord Clausen's words came to mind once more. Concubine, he had said. The one thing Edelgard had promised Dorothea she wouldn't be, and yet the pompous prick of a noble wasn't that far off from the truth in their present arrangement. "She deserves a peaceful life after everything she's been through, without slander and damned assassination attempts. I wouldn't wish the mess that my uncle has us in on anyone, especially her."

"So you are second guessing a decision you made?"

Edelgard opened her mouth to reply, then promptly clamped it shut. There wasn't yes or no answer in her mind to such a question. For all the affection, all the genuine love and care she felt for Dorothea, she still felt an overwhelming tension when it came to having the songstress at her side. It was so much to ask, so soon. Though it was difficult to picture overall, Edelgard could not say for sure whether she would make the same sacrifices if their roles were reversed. Who would be willing to spend their life in the shadow of an Emperor, ever second to her country and her duty?

Ferdinand took her silence as an answer itself, and she wasn't sure she could disagree with his decision to do so. "I cannot pretend that I know the solution to your worries, but I have seen the way she looks at you, Edelgard."

Edelgard huffed at the response that sounded a bit too much like words the professor had spoken only weeks ago. "I know how we feel about each other, we've said as much time and time again at this point. But how long can that last when being with me brings her trouble at every turn?"

"Surprising you can even imagine Dorothea backing down from a challenge," Ferdinand countered. "For all the people you are sharp enough to read at a single glance, you cannot read the woman closest to your heart."

Edelgard couldn't help but scoff at his jab. "You're one to talk, aren't you? As if I don't notice you dancing around your own feelings during our council meetings."

She thought she could see the slightest blush rising to Ferdinand's cheeks, but he abruptly turned away before she could confirm any suspicions. "I cannot say I know what you are speaking of."

"Honestly," Edelgard sighed, and suddenly she didn't feel as bad about her own struggles with feelings and love. Perhaps it was the plight of an Adrestian noble to wrestle with such ordinary topics, among a host of much more grand ordeals. "You really should just talk to him about—"

"Anyways," Ferdinand interrupted loudly, clearing his throat to emphasize that the conversation topic would change right then and there. "This ride was meant to clear your head, not mine. Perhaps I cannot offer you a solid solution to your troubles, but at the very least I can offer you my companionship the same any of our friends will. We are here for whatever either of you need, Edelgard." 

"That's quite exactly what I'm afraid of, Ferdinand." Edelgard couldn't hold her tone as stern as she would have liked, and felt her chest rise with laughter as she spoke his name. He seemed to take interest in anything but his riding partner, glancing about at the trees and the path before them to hide the redness of his cheeks.

But when Karolus gave a sharp yip of alarm, the two immediately met each other's gaze.

A playful smirk made its way across Ferdinand's face, all prior embarrassment thrown to the wind as he tightened his grip on his reins. "Whoever finds it first will be entitled to—"

Before he could even finish his sentence, Edelgard had spurred her horse into action. The Emperor took off down the wooded trail, her mare quite literally kicking up dirt and muck in her friend's face as she went. Karolus tore off in front of them, weaving through bushes but never once losing sight of the bushy red tail that flicked in the foliage ahead.

Edelgard was thankful that her mare still seemed very much attuned to her movements despite how little she had been in the saddle since the fall months had set in. They bounded effortlessly over logs and bushes alike as they drew closer and closer to the forest's edge, and she made a mental note to commend the stable hands for their dedication to keeping her steed in proper form.

The open field they burst into next was one of the prettiest sights Edelgard had seen in a long while. All too often she forgot how vast the Imperial Household's land really was, and she was certain she had not been on the far side of their estate in many years. Rolling hills stretched out before her, and Karolus's mottled fur was barely visible as he bounded through grass nearly as tall as the hound himself. Fall and the dying sunlight combined had brought a beautiful golden tint to the field that seemed to continue on indefinitely.

If there was one thing that Edelgard would never grow tired of, it was seeing the sun before her. She stood in her stirrups, caring little about the wisps of hair that came free from her ponytail as she rode. There was only the wind across her face, her steed moving beneath her, going far away from the palace and further into the sunset.

Far away from it all. Sometimes she would allow herself a moment to imagine a life where any of her late siblings had taken the throne. Would she have ever even mattered to the Empire? Would she have been able to live freely as she liked, unbound by the horned crown atop her head or the double eagle across her shoulders? Would she have been paired off to Adrestian nobility, a pawn to keep them in rank and file by holding the heirs of the mighty houses hostage through marriage? Would she have ever had the opportunity to attend the Officers' Academy and find the men and women who had kept by her side through war and death and rebirth alike?

Would she have met Dorothea Arnault? Fell in love with her all the same?

Edelgard felt her ears burn red at the thought, despite the wind that whipped past them. Dorothea, one of the few things in her life she hadn't wanted to run from. The one thing in her life she hadn't been _able_ to to run from.

Edelgard had never thought she’d have the chance to love and be loved, never thought she'd been deserving of such a feeling. To have it within her reach—no, to have it in her arms from the late night to the early morning, was more than she could have ever dreamed. If she left it all behind—her titles, her uncle, the blood on her hands—she could catch glimpses of what an ordinary life with Dorothea could be. Such a future seemed almost heavenly when just thinking of the songstress brought a warmth through her chest, stronger than any white magic and hotter than any ray of sunlight.

So she thought of Dorothea. Fierce, beautiful, fiery Dorothea. Caring, loving, gorgeous Dorothea. 

Edelgard thought of Dorothea so much that she hardly noticed the towering hedge before them until her until her mare took the jump with a frenzied lunge. A yelp tore from her lips as her steed twisted in the air, shoulder dropping to one side and dashing any hope Edelgard had of keeping her stirrups. The jarring impact of the landing sent her tumbling to the ground before she could even think to grab at her reins.

The Emperor of Fódlan landed on her back in the muck at the base of the hedge, her horse lost to the open field.

Ferdinand and his steed came into view over her moments later, and she chose to graciously ignore the way he could barely conceal his laughter. "Perhaps there is something I best the great Emperor at, after all?"

Edelgard laid still for a moment, staring up at the sky in irritation at whatever Goddess was there, taunting her. She refused to move purely out of spite until Karolus trotted to her side, dutifully nudging his master's cheek with a cold and wet nose. She was certain she looked quite the regal picture. 

"Ferdinand, just go catch my damned horse."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, that took longer than expected! Life's been kicking me in the rear for the past couple of weeks, but (with some help and support from some downright amazing people) I think I'm finally back in the saddle for the "Part II"-ish part of Finding Harmony. Hope you guys enjoy what we've got going so far, and as always you can follow me on twitter @nunwithgun to watch me struggle, I guess


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